Roomies
by twicebornbacchus
Summary: AU: When Kurogane was transferred into an apartment-style dorm, he was hoping for quiet. Instead, he was stuck living with a timid freshman, and worse, an effeminate art major he couldn't stand...or stop thinking about. Yaoi; KuroxFai. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Kurogane had never had good luck with roommates.

A large part of it, he knew, was that he wasn't the easiest person to get along with. It wasn't that his former roommates were a bad influence, or even _bad _by any definition. It was just that he liked living on a schedule, rising early, and drinking in quiet. He didn't go out to bars, didn't enjoy parties (or _people_) on the weekend. He didn't like being bothered. The fall semester of his third year of undergrad had been like the first two: playing football every day, rising with the dawn to train with his team during the week, throwing his shoulder out (a rite of passage for the linebackers), shaking off concussions, popping his shoulder back in, breathing in the scent of fresh grass every afternoon, games on Saturdays, and rest on Sundays. Well, rest and reviewing video footage from the game on Saturday.

His schedule didn't allow him to be particularly studious, to be sure; his fall grades were always poor imitations of how well he did in the spring, but nevertheless, he tried not to miss too many classes: he liked to be on time, from the beginning of his day until the end of it. If he was up at five a.m., he had most likely overslept and was late for weight training. He wanted peace and quiet when he finally got to the dorm…and he rarely got it, which was why, he thought, so many of his former roommates had broken noses. The dorm rooms were just so…_small. _

Really, that was what the problem came down to.

It was his academic advisor who finally suggested he move out of the athlete dorms. His grades were slipping, he had said. Another semester of average marks would be the last weight needed to drag his GPA down far enough to lose his scholarship. He would have argued if not for the assistant coaches agreeing with the man (no one wanted to lose a defensive starter), but he hadn't thought, when he applied for a transfer to the apartment-style dorms on the other end of campus (near the library, a place he had yet to visit), that he'd actually have to move. Transfers rarely happened in the spring, and even more rarely into the most-applied for living space.

He should have realized that being on the football team meant that the university would give him anything his advisors requested. And so, the day before spring classes began, there he was, standing in the doorway of his new dorm at the start of a new semester, half angry that _he _was the one who had had to move, half impressed by how much _bigger_ it was.

In the fall he'd shared his living space with one of the running backs; their beds were practically side by side, two desks crammed into the same little room. He knew the apartment-style dorms were in demand, but now he could see why. Comparatively, it was a major improvement: the front door opened up into a living room with a couch, upholstered in horrible plaid, and a matching loveseat. A coffee table, empty save a remote control, sat in the middle of the room, a small television propped up on a stand on the wall. The living room alone was bigger than the previous quarters he'd shared with another person.

He stepped in and shut the door behind him. To his left, the living room's carpet ended where the kitchen tile began. A table with four chairs sat, a stack of papers discarded on top of it. A counter stretched out like a half-wall between the two living spaces, dividing them, a stove on the end of it. Behind the counter stood rows of cabinets, a refrigerator, dishwasher, and sink. _No wonder everyone wants to live here, _he thought; it was a dorm, sure, but it was set up just like an apartment that would have cost him twice as much. The place was sparsely decorated, save for a few things tacked onto the fridge.

Directly in front of the front door, on the wall where the TV sat, was another door, shut, with the letter 'A' on it. His paperwork had said he was in room 'B,' next to it in the L-shaped residence. Whoever lived in room A, they shared a wall; Kurogane hoped the person wasn't loud.

To the left of the room marked 'B,' he noticed, was the bathroom they shared. Down the hallway, a final door faced him: 'C.'

He fumbled for his keys and unlocked his own room, tossing his bags inside. It was completely empty; even the mattress was bare. Whoever had had the room in the fall had completely packed up and left. As for the other people, the silence in the apartment told Kurogane they weren't home…but he hoped their food was.

Plates, bowels…_where's the food? _He turned to the refrigerator, pausing; a photograph was pinned to the side. In it, a tall, blonde-haired man with smiling blue eyes was holding up a mixing bowl. His hair and clothes were covered in flour; he was gripping a whisk, some sort of fluffy meringue or cream clinging to the end of it.

_Maybe there's dessert in the fridge…_

Kurogane was halfway through a bowl of cereal when the front door opened again.

A young man walked in carrying bags of groceries, stopping in his tracks at the site of him. He had brown hair that looked as though it refused to be combed, and matching wide, brown eyes.

"You must be Kurogane," he said. He shut the door behind him, walking over. He looked at the bowl of cereal in his hands, then at the biceps that extended up from them, and decided not to comment on it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Syaoran."

"Are you in room A?"

"Huh? No, I'm in C."

Kurogane snorted; he wouldn't have to tell him to be sure to be quiet, then. Syaoran lifted the bags onto the counter, waiting for him to speak again.

They stood there in silence as Kurogane ate, glaring at the kid.

"You a freshman?"

"Yea." Syaoran shifted on his feet. "I lived here last semester, though."

"Thought they didn't give the apartment-styles to freshman."

Kurogane was inwardly enjoying how intimidated Syaoran was; the boy looked as though he wanted to walk right back out the door he came in. He liked having that effect on people.

Syaoran smiled sheepishly. "I got lucky. I guess."

"What's that smell?"

"Smell?"

"Like chemicals."

"Oh." Syaoran pointed to the 'A' bedroom. "It's probably whatever Fai is up to. I'm used to it by now. He lives in room A."

"He some kind of drug addict?"

Syaoran laughed. "No, nothing like that. He was right behind me on the stairs…" The boy cast a desperate look at the front door.

They heard him before they saw him, huffing and fumbling to get the door open.

"_Syaoran, _you left me with the _heavy _stuff," the man began, then stopped.

They each looked at each for the first time; blue eyes, the same ones from the photograph, blinked at him.

Kurogane frowned. He'd been stuck with a freshman…_and a fairy, _he thought, judging by the look of him. Fai stood, two bags filled with groceries at the end of what he judged as twiggy arms, wearing skinny jeans and a blue V-neck shirt. A scarf, patterned with violets, was draped over his shoulders, trailing down his front.

Fai broke into a smile, strolling forward. He set the bags down on the kitchen table and spun around, holding a hand out.

"Hello! You must be the new roomie!" He had the biggest smile of anyone Kurogane had ever met…and it made him uncomfortable. "I'm Fai. And you?"

Kurogane stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, as if it was poisoned. Slowly, he reached forward, grasping it. He crushed it painfully, enjoying the way Fai's smile turned into a grimace.

"Kurogane," he grunted.

"I see you've found the cereal." Fai pulled away and rubbed his hand absently. "There's not much food in the place since we just got back from winter break, but we've got a bit here….but it looks like you probably eat more than we do combined. Eh, Syaoran?"

Syaoran looked as though he would rather not comment.

"So!" Fai leaned his elbows on the counter, his chin propped up on his fists. "What's your year? Major?"

Kurogane glared at him with derision; the guy looked like an effeminate pansy. "Third year," he snapped. "Sports Management."

"Figured it had to be something like that, judging by the look of you!" Fai grinned and pointed at Syaoran. "Syaoran's a freshman, undecided, and as for me, I'm a third year, majoring in –"

"Cooking." Kurogane cut him off, rolling his eyes. "You got an apron to match that scarf?"

Fai stopped. His smile faltered around the edges. "Cooking? What makes you think I cook?"

Kurogane jerked his head over his shoulder at the fridge. "There's a picture of you cooking."

Fai stood up and walked over to the fridge, peering around the side. He lifted the photograph out of the magnet clip and stared at it as if he had never seen it before.

Syaoran stepped forward with a sudden urgency. "Fai –"

"Yes, that's me." Fai looked up at Syaoran, smiling again. Kurogane bristled; it was like the two of them had just had an entire conversation without saying a word. He didn't like feeling out of the loop. Syaoran dropped his hand and stood frowning, watching as Fai folded the picture up and slipped it into his back pocket.

The blond turned back to Kurogane. "But, 'Cooking' isn't a major – just a hobby. I'm majoring in Art."

"Art?" He'd _heard _that people went to college to major in Art, but only in jokes. He didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to spend thousands of dollars for a degree in finger painting. "So you want to be a waitress?"

Syaoran cringed; Fai only smiled more broadly. "You know," he said, faking an air of deep thought, "I bet I'd really enjoy that! Think about it: I could run a café. We'd serve coffee and dessert, like little chocolate molten cakes, and tea…and every day, I could dress up in a maid outfit! A _French _maid outfit," he decided, his eyes shining. He pirouetted, his scarf flying out behind him. "Syaoran, what do you think?"

"Well…I suppose," he floundered, his eyes darting back and forth between his roommates. Fai grinned, spun back around with another flourish, and beamed at Kurogane.

"So it's decided then. If art doesn't work out, I'll be a waitress! Oh, if you hadn't come into my life and provided me with this inspiration, who knows what desolate alleys I might have been forced to crawl in, begging for food." He sighed with the theatricality of a heartbroken widow. "I owe you _everything, _Kuro…what was it? Kuro-pon? Kuro-koo? Kuro-chi?"

"_Kurogane,_" he snarled.

"Too long!" Fai rested his hands on his hips, leaning coquettishly back on his legs. "I'll call you Kuro-tan, how about that?"

Syaoran stood rooted to the spot, unable to turn away. It was like watching two trains collide in slow motion.

Kurogane's anger had reached a boiling point. "That's not my name –"

"And _that_'_s _not your cereal." Something cold flashed in Fai's eyes; Kurogane saw it and stood up straight, seeing the challenge in those blue depths. "If you're going to eat our food, pitch in for the cost."

"Fuck your food." He tossed the bowl into the sink with a clatter. "I'll get my own."

"Great!" Fai grinned and turned his back on him with a finality that was infuriating. "Come on Syaoran, let's get these groceries unpacked…"

Kurogane pushed past him, eager to get out of the apartment.

His advisor had warned him not to break any more noses.

* * *

><p>Kurogane hadn't though it possible to hate someone half as much as he hated Fai. If the first week of the semester was a promise of things to come, he was certain he'd be asking for another transfer by spring break.<p>

It wasn't as if their lives intersected in any meaningful way. In fact, their lives _hardly _intersected, which made their minimal interactions that much more intolerable.

His schedule didn't let up for the spring semester. Without games, the need to remain physically active was even more important, especially in the months leading up to summer training. Kurogane was up by 4:30 and at the gym by 5 a.m. Depending on the day of the week, he'd spent the next two hours weight training, running, or some mixture of cardio and isotonic workouts with his trainers. By 7:15 he'd be back at the apartment, covered in sweat and wide awake, to have breakfast and read the campus paper. He didn't keep up with the news, but he never missed the sports section. The campus newspaper dropped it off in front of all the doors…but after two days of not seeing it, Kurogane became suspicious.

It was Wednesday: Syaoran wasn't up yet. January was still too cold and dark for anyone to be up early without an excuse, but Fai's light was on in his room.

He pounded on the door.

It opened; a mop of blonde hair peeked around the corner. Fai saw him and broke into a grin.

"You're looking rugged this morning!" Kurogane fought back the urge to punch him in the face. Fai's eyes were sparkling with merriment. "Is it really cold outside again? I _hate _the cold. I know! Why don't you help me pick out a scarf to match my jacket today –"

"The paper," he snapped. "You seen it?"

"Oh!" Fai swung open his bedroom door. "Sure! I've got it in here."

Kurogane stood at the threshold, dumbfounded. His own room was sparse, populated by just the three pieces of furniture it came furnished with (a bed, a dresser, and a desk), his clothes, and class materials. No posters, no pictures, no frills. He preferred austere and calm.

Fai's room looked like the embodiment of a bad drug drip.

The walls (off-white in his own room) had at one point been _splashed _with paint – _lots _of paint, with no rhyme or reason. The theme, if it had a theme, could only be described as chaotic 'movement': the paint had obviously been dry for some time, but still it looked frozen mid-drip, as if the whole world was melting into one giant swirl of color.

The floor was covered in paint cans and bottles, dozens of brushes stuffed into coffee cans that had been painted and studded with metal bits. Had Kurogane not known Fai was majoring in art, he would have assumed he was a hoarder.

"It's here – somewhere…" Fai kicked an easel over; _what _he was using an easel for, Kurogane had no idea: the man clearly didn't believe in any sort of conventional painting (or cleanliness), so it certainly wasn't being used to hold a canvas.

"_Here _we go!" He was bent over his desk, fishing behind it. Kurogane frowned; Fai's shirt had lifted away at the hem line, exposing pale skin. In the chaos of the room, with a million different things to focus on, Kurogane found himself staring at that single inch of flesh, unable to look away.

Fai sprung up suddenly, newspaper clutched in his hands. "Eh…it's got some paint on it. Wait – nope, not paint. That looks like…wax. That's melted wax. Well, _that's _paint, there, but right _here _is definitely –"

Kurogane yanked it out of his hands. "I like to _read _it. Don't fucking use it for your art projects."

Fai slumped, pouting. "But I need it for paper _mâché_!"

"What are you,three years old?"

Fai leered back at him, cocking his hips. "No, I _swear_ I'm of a consensual age, Kuro-pon. _Honest_!" He called out, but Kurogane had already slammed the door behind him, storming into the kitchen for his breakfast.

Things had only gone downhill. They weren't able to avoid each other in the evenings, try as Kurogane might, despite going to bed earlier and earlier. Maybe, he could admit that things had gotten off on the wrong foot between them…and _maybe, _just _maybe, _he had had something to do with it. Still, where Syaoran was timid and would avoid him, Fai was happy to irk him, seeming to take it as a new sport. He had thought Fai would be a simpering pussy, but no…Kurogane remembered the way something cold has flashed in his eyes the first morning they met, and that something was steely, rising to the challenge. Kurogane could intimidate his teammates at training all he wanted; meanwhile, a man a third of his size was busy taunting him at home. When he threw his weights onto the gym floor and was yelled at for it, his mind was elsewhere, seething with hate for Fai. Somehow, it was _his _fault. He'd lost count of the number of ways Fai had discovered to distort his name, yet still they rang in his skull, day in and out. His first week of classes was spent in a haze of distraction: no one had ever vexed him as much before.

The first week in his new apartment ended on a quiet note; Fai hadn't come home on Thursday evening. Kurogane basked in the quiet of the apartment; Syaoran was off in his room, studying like a good freshman, and Kurogane slept more soundly than he had for the past six days.

He'd had his best workout all week on Friday morning; even Souma, the least likely to compliment _anyone _out of all the assistant coaches, commented that he had a great round of sprints on the field. He didn't even notice the icy cold as he walked back to the dorm, steam rising from his body. He'd had a whole evening without being bothered. Could he go a whole day?

_Fuck. _

Fai was home.

He was seated at the kitchen table, fully dressed, as if he had just gotten home from the day before. Judging by his disheveled appearance, he _had _just gotten home: his hair hung limply down his face, and a striped blue scarf was still wrapped around his neck, despite being indoors. He was looking down into a steaming cup of something distinctly _not _coffee when Kurogane walked in.

"How many fucking scarves do you own?"

Fai looked up at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. Kurogane watched him blink slowly, long eyelashes rising and falling with the movement. _Like a chick, _he thought, sneering.

"I don't know." Fai spoke slowly, as if he wasn't sure how to respond. "A lot."

He was off his game; getting no sleep could do that. Kurogane tried not to grin at how pathetic and worn out Fai looked. It was immensely satisfying seeing him at his worse.

"You hung over or something?"

"A bit…"

"Drank too many martinis, huh?"

Fai stared back at him, frowning now. "You bet. My boyfriend just kept buying them, so I just kept knocking them back…what's a guy to do?" He gave a half-hearted attempt at a jeer.

Something inside Kurogane coiled. He thought of that bare patch of skin he'd glimpsed and imagined some guy touching Fai, lifting his shirt up. _He was probably out all night doing artsy shit, fucking some guy. _

Kurogane crossed his arms over his chest, staring at him with disgust. "You bring your boyfriend here, and we'll have a problem. Keep that fairy shit to yourself."

Fai had been clutching his head, but now he slowly stood up. He looked into his cup, as if deciding whether or not to drink the contents, and moved to the sink, pouring it down the drain. He set the cup in the dishwasher very slowly before turning back to Kurogane, blue eyes narrowed with dislike.

"Actually, _Kuro-tan, _I was kidding. I don't have a boyfriend." His words came out in an angry hiss. "And despite what you think about me, I don't have any _fairy shit _to keep to myself – but you and I clearly already have a problem. Why don't we just agree to leave other _alone _for the rest of the semester_? _I think that would be best."

He made to walk past him. Kurogane wasn't sure why he did it, or if he could have even stopped himself, but he checked him with his shoulder.

Fai was worse off than he let on; he stumbled and fell backward against the fridge, clutching at his head. _Definitely hung-over._ Kurogane stepped forward. Fai looked up through his fingers, loathing radiating from his gaze.

"You want to settle this like men?"

Fai rolled his eyes and stood up. "I'd have to be an idiot to pick a fight with you. And what are you, a three year old?" Fai threw his words back at him, rolling his eyes. "If you touch me again, I'll file assault charges against you with the police." Something of his usual, weirdly unsettling smile came back to his face. He grinned, as if they were having a pleasant conversation. "Tell me, with all that working out you do, do you play any sports?"

"Football." His fists were clenched by his sides now, every muscle taunt.

"Football?" Fai stood up a little straighter. "Oh _wow, _Kuro-tan, that's great! You must be so strong to play a manly sport like _that!_" Above his smile, his eyes were dangerous, furious. "It'd be a shame to be dragged through the news for assault, wouldn't it? _And, _Kuro-chi, since you said I was a fairy, it'll be a hate crime. I can see the headlines now!"

"Get the fuck out of the kitchen," he snapped. "I need to make breakfast."

Fai's smile fell a little, but his eyes remained the same. "On my way out," he said, slipping past him.

Kurogane was no longer preoccupied with fantasies of breaking Fai's nose.

Instead, he spent the morning imagining what it would be like to choke him to death with a scarf as his eggs cooked.

**Author's Note: My last Kuro/Fai fic was AU, too, but I made it so that Fai and Kuro didn't speak each other's languages. So, I wanted to write something where they could actually talk! (And something a lot less dark). This takes me back to undergrad! Oh, what fun; I loved college. My boyfriend was a linebacker in undergrad, so the training schedule is accurate. A few notes: apartment-style dorms really are the best (most allow you to decorate like Fai has done, as long as you paint it over when you leave). 'Checking' (I couldn't think of a better verb) is when someone is close enough to you for you to thrust your shoulder out, sending your upper body weight into them. For those of you who don't do weight training (I don't), throwing weights on the floor is a great way to get thrown out of a gym; it damages the weights, the floor, and is very loud and disruptive. Lastly, my roommates and I called each other 'roomies' – I couldn't think of anything else to name this. I'm dreadful when it comes to naming things. Will update all week, thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	2. Chapter 2

They didn't speak to each other at all on Friday; Kurogane had shut himself in his room in a successful effort to avoid a confrontation. He was up early on Saturday, already dreading Sunday, tomorrow, when he wasn't supposed to work out. When there was no video footage to review in a locker room.

When he'd be stuck at the apartment.

It was 7:30 in the morning when Kurogane came back from the gym to the dark apartment. Dawn had yet to break and lift the grey. He could hear the shower running as he made coffee; Syaoran was up early for once.

He sat down on the couch and found the morning's newspaper already on the coffee table – Syaoran was up early _and _active. Maybe that wasn't so strange; he'd hardly spoken to the kid, but he seemed the restless sort.

The water stopped as Kurogane's eyes swept past the headlines, uninterested, burying himself in the sports pages.

The bathroom door opened. "Morning, kid," he called.

"Wrong kid, Kuro-pon."

He looked up sharply, his body tensing. Fai was standing in the bathroom doorway, long, blonde hair dripping down his face, clinging to his neck. Kurogane stared at him, forgetting how to breathe. What he had assumed was a twiggy, malnourished body was lean, toned, and glistening with water. The curvature of Fai's hip muscles cut diagonally downward toward his groin; Kurogane followed the lines with his eyes and found his path blocked by a towel balanced snuggly around his waist.

When Kurogane said nothing, unable to speak, Fai shrugged. "Well, good morning, anyways," he said, and walked into the kitchen.

His heart was beating too fast in his chest. He tried to focus on the sports column, the weekend's picks for the top teams, but his eyes kept betraying him. Try as he might, he couldn't help but keep glancing into the kitchen, watching the way Fai's skin gleamed as his muscle definitions moved and shifted when he reached up into a cabinet, making his breakfast.

_What the fuck is wrong with you! _Kurogane cursed himself inwardly. _So he's not a twig after all - he's still too thin. Stop staring at him, for fuck's sake! _

As if to prove to himself that he wasn't bothered, he glanced up over the paper. Now was as good a time as ever to try and repair their relationship, especially since they'd have to live together for the next four months. "Why are you up so early?" He heard his own gruffness and mentally admonished himself for being less than placid.

"Work." Fai set a pot on the stove to boil and sighed, leaning back against the counter. Kurogane's gaze caught the way the towel shifted, exposing a trail of blonde hairs below his naval.

He jeered. "_You_ work? I didn't think you had it in you."

Tired eyes lifted up from the stove to look at him, blinking. Was it just him, or did Fai seem a little…off? He remembered the moment he had caught him at the table, disheveled. _No…he seems more REAL. _Kurogane gazed back, sizing the man up. The guy who called him weird names, who grinned too widely at him – _that _was the 'off' Fai. The one slumped against the counter, dripping, still too tired to put himself together was the real one.

"Well," Fai said, and his voice lacked its usual flippancy, "You'd be surprised."

"I doubt it." Kurogane snickered. Fai looked at him with something akin to distaste and returned to gazing at the pot of water.

The blond busied himself with shaking things into a mug as Kurogane returned to his paper, determined not to look up at him and finding it difficult, _impossible, _not to glance back at him, or his skin. _Forget it, _he kept repeating, _what the fuck is up with you,_ but his mind kept at it, and his blood pulsed in his veins in a familiar, uncomfortable way…

The water came to a boil; Fai poured it into his mug, sighing over it.

He gave up, tossing the paper back to the table. "What are you making?"

Fai picked up the mug and walked into the living room, leaning against the other end of the couch. He was close enough now that Kurogane could smell soap and heat on him. "Tea."

"_Tea? _Why, is it your period?" He crossed his hands over his chest, feeling his muscles contract. He felt suddenly angry at Fai for ruining his morning; why couldn't he just put some clothes on? _Why does it fucking matter to you? _His own voice asked.

Blonde eyebrows arched, observing his sudden animosity. "Yes. _Tea._"

"What'd you put in it?"

"Cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and honey. Want to try it?"

Red eyes narrowed. "Do I _look_ like I want to try your _tea_?"

Fai's eyes were suddenly cold, like two chipped sapphires burning into him; it'd been less than a day, and already they were fighting again. "Well, see, I don't know, Kuro-tan," he said, and his voice was low and biting, "You've been looking at me for the last ten minutes, so I wasn't sure _what _you wanted to try, but I figured, you being such a masculine guy and all, it just _had _to be the tea. Definitely not anything else."

He was up on his feet before he'd even realized he'd stood, glaring back him.

Kurogane's voice came out in a low growl, his hands curling into fists. "What are you implying?"

Fai grinned, his eyes flashing with victory. "Insecure much? Something _bothering _you, Kuro-pu?"

His rage clouded his judgment; the sound of the mug falling to the floor was muffled by the carpet. Kurogane lunged forward, shoving Fai back against the front door. His hand came up and pinned him by the throat, closing around his trachea.

"_Don't fuck with me,_" he snarled.

Fai's hands flew to his arm, fighting to get him off. Wide, panicked blue eyes stared back at him. Kurogane was suddenly aware that he was touching Fai's skin – actually _touching_ him – and that if he leaned forward just a foot, he could kiss that mouth that was set in a grim line of determination, that was struggling to breathe –

He let go suddenly and stepped back, more horrified at his thoughts than his actions. Fai dropped to his knees, gasping and coughing.

"Kurogane?" Syaoran was suddenly standing in the hallway behind him, staring, his eyes blurred from sleep. On the ground, Fai's body was wracked in a fit of coughing, bent over double on the floor. "I heard…Fai, are you alright?"

"F-fine, Syaoran." He caught his breath and stood up on shaking legs, drawing his towel tighter around him.

"What happened?" Syaoran was looking at Kurogane now, expecting some sort of explanation, but Kurogane couldn't move. He stood there, unable to think straight or speak. He'd assaulted Fai – he could go to jail. But more frightening yet was that, for just a moment, he had thought about leaning in, thought about actually _kissing _that blonde bastard –

"My tea." Fai leaned down and picked up the spilled mug, looking mournfully at the stain on the carpet. "I nearly choked on it. That's why you should never drink anything too fast," he said, and when he looked up at the freshman, he was smiling his big, stupid smile.

Syaoran looked on, hesitant.

"I'll clean it up. You have to get ready for work." Kurogane couldn't look at him; he took the cup from him, felt Fai's cool eyes on him again, and walked into the kitchen.

The reply came a beat too late, but it came all the same. "Thanks, Kuro-pon! You're just so thoughtful!"

When his door shut, Syaoran turned back to him. "Kurogane, is everything alright?"

"Yea," he mumbled. "Go back to bed."

He waited until Syaoran's footsteps faded down the hallway, his door closing. Sighing, he found the pot still on the stove and refilled it with water, turning it back on high.

_Cloves…cinnamon…honey…what else? Shit, where does he keep the tea bags…_ He remembered watching Fai's shoulders move, arms reaching up. Kurogane flushed with embarrassment as he fished the box down from the cabinet. Fai's words haunted him – had he been that obvious? _Obvious about what? Looking at him? So what, it's a free country, it's not a crime to look at someone…_

But it _was_ a crime to assault someone. _So what are you going to do, apologize? _He stirred the tea angrily, watching the golden liquid swirl around. After all, Fai had been right…_it's him, though. It's not me. He's wrong. I'm not insecure. It's just that he looks like a goddamn woman._

He knew it sounded stupid the moment he thought it; Fai didn't look any more like a woman than he did, especially when he emerged from his room a minute later. He was wearing a pair of skinny khaki pants that hugged his waist and a white, crisp collared shirt that hung off his frame. Rather than look baggy, the shirt made him look handsome, especially now that Kurogane knew the sort of body it hid. Fai's hair was still drying, lifting up around his neck, but his eyes had remained the same – cold, angry.

He came and stood in front of the counter. Kurogane found it hard to meet his gaze but forced himself to do so all the same. He couldn't remember the last time he felt uncomfortable making eye contact with someone before. Hell, he couldn't remember if he'd _ever _felt uncomfortable making eye contact before.

"You lied to Syaoran."

"He worries too much about too many things."

"Are you going to press charges?"

Fai looked at him for a minute before speaking. "No."

The relief that Kurogane had expected didn't come. Instead, he felt strangely hollow. "…Thanks."

"Oh, you're welcome." It was hard to believe how much venom he could pack into three little words. Fai turned to go, walking to the door.

"Wait."

Kurogane stepped around the corner and shoved the mug into his hands, looking away. His eyes fell on the stain on the carpet. "Sorry," he muttered.

He glanced up; Fai stood there, blinking, as if he couldn't quite process what he'd said or what he was holding. After a moment, he lifted the mug to his lips and sipped.

"God, that is _awful, _Kuro-tan."

"I've never made tea before," he started hotly, but stopped. Fai was smiling in his wide, fake way.

"Well, there's a first for everything," he said, and walked out the front door, leaving Kurogane feeling impossibly stupid in the living room.

* * *

><p>Watching the television didn't help. Trying to study didn't help.<p>

_Nothing_ helped.

All he could do was think about how he'd lost his temper, how he'd actually grabbed Fai by the throat, and how he had thought – for just a moment – about _kissing _him. Kurogane's grip tightened on his coffee; what was he _supposed _to think about someone who went walking around in a towel…? His mind was warring with itself. Since high school he'd showered with other guys in a locker room – hell, even his last roommate slept naked – but he'd never thought, not even for a moment, about _kissing _any of them. And just looking at them had never made his blood quicken, but when he pictured Fai again, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his towel balanced on his hips, he fought hard to control his breathing. _It's not me, _he thought again, rationalizing the situation. After all, he'd never found any _other _guy attractive…but then again, he'd never really been around guys that looked like Fai. The least built among his teammates was the kicker, and even he probably had a good sixty pounds of muscle mass on Fai. It wasn't as though people walked around, constantly trying to fight off their attraction to one another – people had _types…_preferences…so maybe thin, tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed was his type…?

With a start, he came back to himself, spilling his coffee over his hand. He couldn't believe he'd actually been considering that he could be…could possibly…_no, it's not me. _It was becoming a mantra. _It's just him. He's not normal. He probably does this to everyone._

It was nine o'clock in the morning when Syaoran came walking back down the hallway to discover a harried Kurogane on the couch. He offered a timid good morning, and when he received no reply, tried again with a little more confidence.

Kurogane looked up over the sound of the television, staring hard at him.

"You lived with Fai last semester."

Syaoran took the question as the best greeting he was going to get and nodded, busying himself with breakfast.

"What do you think about him?" Kurogane kept his voice carefully nonchalant.

Syaoran set a pan on the stove, grabbing a few eggs from the fridge. "Fai is really nice," he said slowly, sensing that a trap might be laid somewhere. "…He has a big personality, so it might be hard to get used to him at first, but…he's nice," he repeated.

Kurogane listened to the sound of eggs frying. "Where's he work?"

Brown eyes glanced up at him, openly curious now. "In the mornings he works as a gallery assistant. He gets done in the afternoon, and then he'll be at the studio until…" Syaoran glanced at the time, "…Six o'clock or so. It's his turn to make dinner."

"Studio?"

If Syaoran wondered why Kurogane was interested in the mundane details of Fai's schedule, he tried hard not to show it. He explained that the upper-class art majors shared a studio walking distance from the dorm, on the other side of the library, across from the dining hall.

"You should go!" Syaoran blurted it out and then froze, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just suggested.

Kurogane thought that he'd just as soon step in front of a moving car. His expression indicated as much.

Syaoran brought his plate of food into the kitchen and sat down. He poked at the eggs.

"I don't mean to be disrespectful toward you," he began. "I know we don't know each other very well, and I understand that your business is your own…but still…it seems like you and Fai don't get along. It's been…uncomfortable this week," he frowned, trying to find the right words. "And I know it's not my place, but I think if you gave him a chance, you wouldn't dislike him so much."

Kurogane bristled defensively. "Who said I disliked him?"

Syaoran winced. "It's pretty obvious. I don't know what really happened this morning, but you both looked angry."

Kurogane was silent, glaring at him.

"So…maybe it would be a good gesture to stop by the studio. Fai is really passionate about his work. It might be a good way to get to know him." Finished, Syaoran began eating his breakfast.

"Like I give a shit about art." Kurogane stood up and moved into the kitchen, washing the coffee off his hand. "What time will he be there?"

"Be where?" He twisted around, confused.

"The _studio._"

Syaoran made a poor attempt at hiding his surprise. "By noon, I think."

_Noon. _He'd have to keep his thoughts occupied until noon. No, not noon: _one _– he couldn't show up right at noon, that would look stupid. Well, he'd look stupid enough for going to an art studio, but still…

He went into his room and grabbed his towel. His body was already sore from his earlier workout, but if physical activity couldn't keep his mind busy, nothing would. The soreness would be worth it.

"See you," he called, slamming the front door.

Syaoran sat in the kitchen alone, wondering if he had just been the catalyst for a disaster.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! Especially to silinde-kun – it's so exciting to see someone reading another fic I wrote! No more French this time around, I swear!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

The problem with college campuses was that they allowed you to get intimately familiar with your little corner of the world without ever experiencing the big picture; Kurogane knew every building near the gym, every workout field and parking lot…and nothing else. He'd never had any class near the art studios, and so, as he walked around in the cold, his clothes clinging to him from the sweat of an exhausting work out (one that he had no doubt he would feel tomorrow when he woke up, sore and miserable), he was tempted to give up on what was a stupid suggestion anyway when he finally found the building.

For half a moment he was tempted to turn around and go home; it was only a fifteen minute walk straight back to the dorm now that he knew where the damn place was. Hell, he could jog home in less time if his legs weren't so damn sore. His hand hovered on the door, uncertainty creeping up on him. Why was he even here? To apologize again? He'd already apologized, something he wasn't apt to do often or to very many people, so then _why…_

_ Syaoran. _Sure, that was it. The kid was a freshman; his first year shouldn't be spent living with two people who hated each other. Even Kurogane's former roommates weren't as bad as he and Fai had managed to get in just one week. He was being considerate. He wanted to grin a little; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been particularly – what was the word again? _considerate _– to someone, either. He opened the door and stepped in with an air of confidence.

Kurogane could feel eyes staring at him as he walked through the studio, a strange pause happening as people stopped what they were doing to stare at him. People were coming and going; why was it so strange to see _him _here?

_Because you look out of place. _The people who were slipping through the side doors to visit the sub-studios reminded him, in some ways, of Fai: in a word, _thin. _So _that _was where the phrase 'starving artist' came from, then. Kurogane walked, glancing at the nameplates, his towel slung over his shoulder, his shirt still soaked through.

It didn't help that the studio was a giant, open space that the art students had transformed into a veritable jungle of projects and compartments. Students had walled themselves off with their art, erected scaffolding, set up sheets: rooms were created out of raw materials, windows from glass and canvas. The smell of paint mixed with the earthy scent of clay, the air thrumming with the sound of a kiln burning, somewhere, a torch soldering a sculpture, clay being shaped into some yet unknown thing on a wheel. It was like being swallowed whole into the belly of a living beast, and the only thing the students had done to help out visitors were name plates near their stations, small, ineffectual signposts in a wilderness of art.

He was getting ready to give up again when he caught what he first mistook for a tent in the back corner.

It was more like a fort, really, the kind children built in their parents' living rooms. He couldn't tell what was under the sheet – chairs or tables stacked on top of each other, maybe, or perhaps proper supports, but either way, it was like looking at a booth at an Indian bazaar. The top was open, but up too high to see down into what, the nameplate on the floor told him, was _Fai D. F. _and _T. D._'s corner of the world. The only thing discernible about the inside was that, evidently, a _tree _was in there. Not a living one, no…but some sort of bizarre sculpted one that rose up out of the top, complete with fake branches and leaves.

A rug, old and frayed and decorated with lilies, hung over the entrance. If the art kids were going for 'eclectic,' they nailed it, he thought. For a brief moment he considered turning around and leaving, back into the fresh air, away from all these sights and sounds in a world where he didn't belong…

…but eyes were still crawling on him. _He _would find out he had come here, and what would he think if he found out he ended up leaving? _That I was nervous? Fucking prick…_ He shoved the rug away and stepped inside.

It was like stepping into a tiny, kaleidoscopic world, its own microcosm within the bigger universe of the studio. Kurogane didn't know much about art, but he knew that painters _painted, _sculptors _sculpted…_but whatever Fai did, it was impossible to categorize. Spray paint bottles sat in a sea of discarded caps next to tubes of oils; boxes of pastels were stacked next to felt markers and bits of strings, even _twigs. _Fai's room at home was a poor imitation of the chaos of the studio, and now he could see the odd tree in its full scale: scrap metal and clay fought with one another into the shape of the trunk, it's mesh limbs curving down over the art space, its leaves made of bits of cloth that had been threaded through the metal. The ground was covered in newspaper, and the smell of paint was thick in the air.

The two people inside stopped what they were doing, staring at him.

The girl who shared the studio with him sat in a tiny island of calm to the right of the chaos, the tree sculpture looming over her; fabrics were folded neatly next to a sewing machine on a small table. Her hair, longer than Kurogane had ever seen on a woman, fell down around her in soft, dark waves. Two small hands, one clutching a needle, the other holding a bundle of silk, stopped their movements. She blinked at him, smiling.

On the floor, in a mess of color, sat Fai, a rumpled canvas spread out over a chair he had placed on its side, a makeshift easel. He had changed into what Kurogane assumed were work clothes, jeans and a black T-shirt, both covered in the cracked, dried paint of past projects: he was so far removed from his earlier clean, put-together appearance that Kurogane could only stare at him again. His hands were smeared with Day-glo colors, and six open cans sat around him, next to an empty tea mug, the same one Kurogane had shoved at him earlier.

He looked up at Kurogane, too surprised for words.

"Hello!" The girl beamed at him. "My name is Tomoyo; can we help you?"

"Just stopping by." He shoved his hands in his gym shorts, shrugging.

Fai recovered, scrambling to his feet. "Tomoyo-chan, let me introduce you – this is my new roommate, Kuro-chi! What a surprise to see you here!" Something in his eyes flashed with a warning, as if to say, _and it's not a happy surprise. Leave._

"What an unusual name!" She seemed a bit dreamy, but happy all the same. A delicate hand reached out to shake his.

He looked at it apprehensively. "I just came from the gym," he said. "I'm sweaty."

"You can't be any dirtier than Fai."

"Tomoyo-chan, you're so _mean!_" Fai pouted, but it was true; he was covered in paint up to his elbows, smudging more on his pants as he slumped in a show of despair.

Kurogane shook her hand. "Tomoyo…chan?"

"I'm originally from Japan," she explained. "In Japanese, we use suffixes to express our relationships with one another. I came here to study. It's been so strange hearing people say my name all the time…I thought everyone was so rude at first! It's been wonderful to experience a different culture, but when I met Fai-kun, he wanted me to feel at home. " When she smiled, it lit up the space.

Kurogane turned to Fai, frowning. "Is that where you got the idea for those obnoxious nicknames?"

For a moment, it looked as though Fai was trying to decide if Kurogane had come to his studio to start a fight or not. He suddenly rocked back on his heels, waving his arms. "I'll never tell!" A bucket of paint toppled over behind him, splashing red across the newspaper.

"Kuro-tan, what's black and white and red all over?"

He stared at him placidly. "What, idiot?"

"The floor." Fai pointed down, grinning. "Don't step in it, it'll ruin your shoes. It's latex-based, but it has a tendency to dye things…sorry, Tomoyo-chan," he added. The paint had crept up to a rumpled pile of yarn in the corner. She watched the yarn suck up the paint, stopping its progression.

"Oh, don't worry about. I only believe in happy accidents. Now I have red yarn!" She returned to her sewing, pulling the hem of her skirt up a little higher off the floor.

Fai turned back to him. "So, what brings you here? I didn't think you had an appreciation for art." _Or that you could stand me, _his gaze, cool and sharp, suggested.

Kurogane snorted. "I like art." He said it with all the sincerity of someone declaring that they liked being flogged. Fai looked at him with amusement. "I got done working out and was on my way back to the apartment," he half lied. "Syaoran said you had a studio on campus, so I thought I'd stop in and see why I always smell paint fumes coming out of your room."

"Well, it's paint for right now…" He crouched down excitedly, yanking the canvas forward. Messy, multi-colored handprints appeared on the edges. "Who knows what it'll be next week?"

"Are you…are you a painter?" He felt uncomfortable, completely out of his element. He watched, astonished, as Fai _plunked _his arm all the way into a pail of blue paint and pulled it out, delighting in the way it ran down his skin. Fai turned to the canvas and flicked his fingernails at it; flecks of blue appeared, too fine to have been formed by a brush, like raindrops scattering across the surface.

Fai looked up to see Kurogane watching him. "Don't tell anyone – that's one of my _secret _techniques!"

Tomoyo didn't even look up from her sewing to comment, "He's lying. All painters know how to do that. If you do it with red and move your arm at the same time, it looks like splashes of blood."

"Well, you need to cut the paint with thinner to get the right viscosity for convincing blood splatter, and it would be easier to just use corn syrup and food coloring, but that's the right idea." Fai smiled up at him. "No, I'm not a painter. I do mixed medium!"

"That's his way of saving 'anything goes,'" Tomoyo translated.

"Huh." Kurogane didn't know what to say. He was beginning to question why he'd even come here and feeling as though it was time to go.

"And poor Tomoyo, a textiles person…she does clothes, and look at her, shoved into a studio with a mixed medium specialist…the _horror!_" He spun around suddenly, yanking out from under a pile of newspapers what was clearly a handheld garden rake, and drug it across the wet canvas. Rows of beige appeared, as if a beast had drug its claws down the wet canvas.

"I _asked _to be put with him. I don't do fashion – I do costume!" She slipped down from the chair she was sitting on; Kurogane was shocked by how short she was. Her head barely came to his mid-torso. She held up what he could see now was a cape she was busy embroidering with a fine, gold thread. "The theatre-department had overflow problems, so I didn't think I was going to get a campus studio, but then this space opened up –" She stopped suddenly. Below her, Fai had grown quiet, the rake limp in his hand. He stared at the canvas with a gaze that was focused on something else.

"…And…Well, I was happy to take it," she finished, but Kurogane could feel that something had changed. Tomoyo touched Fai's shoulder gently, and Kurogane suddenly felt the urge to pull him up off the ground. He looked crumpled somehow…sad.

But then, just as suddenly, his eyes were sparkling again as he jumped to his feet. "And I was happy to have her!" Something hot and jealous and shockingly foreign flared inside him as Fai leaned forward, kissing Tomoyo's forehead.

"I'm gonna go," he muttered. "See you when you get home, Fai."

"It was nice to meet you, Kurogane-san!"

_Great, now she's doing nicknames as well…or is that normal? Fuck. _"You too, Tomoyo…chan."

The cold air outside the studio was a welcome respite from the sensory overload of the art studio. His mind wandered as he walked, curious. Something had definitely changed in the atmosphere back there, suddenly and without warning, something he didn't understand. It reminded him of the first morning he'd met Fai and Syaoran, when he'd moved in. A space in Fai's studio had opened up at the same time that a room was available in their apartment; so Kurogane wasn't the first roommate Fai had managed to chase off, then. He'd have to remember to ask Syaoran about it later.

* * *

><p>When he asked Syaoran later that afternoon about the former inhabitant of room B, all he'd gotten was a strange silence and what was clearly a lie: "The room was empty." Syaoran could no more hide his feelings than he could lie – not to mention that it was a bad lie, too. Dorm rooms didn't remain empty. The wait-lists alone could fill up every dorm on campus twice over, but something in the way he had said it and made Kurogane decide not to press the issue.<p>

He spent the afternoon napping. At some point he heard Fai come home, the sound of the shower floating through his bedroom wall. Kurogane stretched back and closed his eyes again, glancing at his alarm clock on the dresser. It was close to five; he'd have to start figuring out dinner soon, but if he left his room, he might run into Fai again…and if he was in a towel…

_Stop thinking about him, god damn it! _

An hour later, he left his room to slump on the couch, wishing a football game was on. Just a few more weeks until the basketball games started… He clicked through the channels with apathy, this time doing a successful job of not watching Fai out of the corner of his eye. Well, not watching him _much_, anyways. The blond was in the kitchen, mercifully dressed with an apron on, stirring what smelled distinctly like stir fry in a wok. Behind him, a rice cooker puffed steam into the air.

Syaoran was talking to Fai as he cooked, his words a stuttered mess. Kurogane half-listened to the conversation, his stomach in knots: the aroma was reminding him how hungry he was. Syaoran was describing a girl he'd met in his classes that week, a pretty girl with green eyes and short brown hair who sat next to him in his lecture hall.

_I hope he's not planning on asking HIM for advice on women. _He smirked a little to himself, then faltered. He was fairly certain Fai was into guys, but then again, Fai himself had suggested otherwise. And where had he got that impression from, anyways? A V-neck shirt? Skinny jeans? _He wears scarves! And an apron! Of course he fucks guys! _

He smoldered, annoyed with himself. He knew the logic didn't add up. A scarf and an apron was no more proof of someone's sexual preference than their major. _Why does it matter? _He thought suddenly, the thought unsettling him without understanding why.

He ignored his thoughts and returned to listening to their conversation, feeling oddly left out. It wasn't as if he had anything to add, really. It was just strangely lonely to be in the same room with two people who were successfully ignoring him…even as he struggled to ignore them, too.

Syaoran got down two bowls from the cabinet, filling them with rice. Fai began to push the stir fry into them, then stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurogane saw it again: the same odd, sad expression, as if he was thinking of something he was trying to avoid.

"I made too much." It didn't seem like it was the sort of thing that should be a big deal, but Fai looked as though he was about to drop the wok. Next to him, Syaoran was fumbling, trying to find the right thing to say. Fai set the wok down and stared at the food left over in it, his shoulders slumping, and Kurogane heard, just barely audible over the television, him speak again. "I'm too used to cooking for three people."

"Kurogane!" Syaoran looked like a man balancing on the edge of a cliff, calling for help. "Are you hungry? We've got extra."

Fai came back to himself as Kurogane came into the kitchen. Syaoran fished down another bowl, scooped rice into it, and dumped the remaining contents of the wok on top.

The three of them went and sat at the kitchen table, eating in silence, a heavy tension in the air. Maybe he was just hungry, or maybe the stir fry was just _that _good. It was spiced with garlic and ginger, sesame seeds sprinkled over it. Kurogane looked up at Fai; he was hardly eating, staring listlessly at the food.

"Your art is crap."

Fai looked up, his eyes flashing suddenly, but Kurogane only grinned with satisfaction, pointing at his empty bowl. "Stick to cooking."

Syaoran froze, half expecting an explosion, a fight…but Fai suddenly smiled, not wide and stupid, but genuine and small.

"Whatever you say, Kuro-pon."

**Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews! To Aelin Ueal, I'm sorry the chapters are too short for you! But, thank you for your constructive criticism, so I'll upload two chapters today instead of one, so that's about 7,000 words to keep you occupied. PS: For those of you impressed at how quickly I update, I write my fics ahead of time, so I'm able to update daily; I can't take any credit for being a fast writer! But thank you for your kind words.**


	4. Chapter 4

It was an odd friendship, or maybe Kurogane just thought it was odd because he'd never really had friends before. He had teammates, workout partners, classmates, acquaintances…but not so much friends.

What had promised to be a complete disaster had cooled down into a truce after their first meal together. Kurogane came to accept (with much grudging dislike) that Fai's personality was, as Syaoran had said…_big. _The nicknames didn't stop, but they didn't possess the pointed hate that he had detected before. It was almost…_affectionate? Don't be a fucking idiot, _he told himself. Fai, likewise, had grown used to his gruff nature, or at least, that was what he had said one evening.

"You're just rough around the edges!" He had teased. "I'll bet deep inside you're just a big puppy!"

Deep inside, Kurogane wanted to snap his neck every time he called him anything other than his name.

And really, he didn't even _like _Fai. The only reason why he stopped by his studio during the week was to keep the tension between them low. He didn't even stay for long (couldn't, really: the smells and the noises were too much), but making a point to go there every afternoon didn't mean anything other than that they were….friends? _Friends. Sort of, _he settled for.

But there were nevertheless times when Fai would make him angry, downright _infuriated_, and he'd find himself snapping at him, or storming off to his bedroom. The last instance had happened two days ago. Kurogane had come home late in the afternoon to find Fai home early. The blond was sitting on the living room floor, books and papers spread out on the coffee table, with a pair of reading glasses on, studying. When Kurogane walked in, he looked up, surprised, and the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. He'd been struck by the sudden urge to walk over, pull his glasses off, and –

"Hi, Kerger! You're home early."

"Shut the fuck up," he had snarled, and spent the whole night in his room.

It was _him. _That was the only thought that could sustain him, could help him get through nights when he tossed restlessly in bed. Kurogane usually slept with all the stillness of a calm, focused mind. Sleeplessness did nothing to improve his mood, but there were times when he would be watching Fai make dinner, or see him standing with a strange, lost expression on his face, that he felt his pulse drum a little faster. Once, when he was in the shower, he had thought about the time Fai had walked around the apartment in just his towel, and discovered, with a horror that made his blood freeze, that he was halfway to a hard-on.

_I'm not attracted to guys. _Even denying it in his head made him face the possibility that maybe, _just maybe, _he was attracted to the art major. _But I'm not._ No matter how many days had passed, his focus refused to return. They'd been living together for almost a month now, with February closing in, and Kurogane's thoughts had remained incessantly on one person. For his part, Fai took his sudden mood-swings in stride; one moment they'd be getting along, the next Kurogane would be calling him a pansy, making quips about his sexuality, lack of masculinity…and always feeling like a complete asshole later, when he sat alone, in the dark of his room, kicking himself mentally.

By the first of February, the best thing to do, he had decided, was just completely avoid Fai. He'd gone one day without visiting him in his studio and felt like he had missed something, somehow. It changed daily – hell, _Fai _changed daily. The next afternoon he had given up on his short-lived decision to avoid his roommate and stopped by, ashamed that his resolve, once ironclad, had crumbled so quickly.

He was becoming a bit of a stir in the art department, he knew. He didn't know what people were saying or what they thought, but even after a month people always stared at him when he stepped into the studios, as if they were eager to catch a glimpse of him.

"Yo."

He stepped through the carpet flap. Tomoyo looked up, smiling at him. "Watch out," she warned.

"Huh?"

"Kuro-tan!" Fai exploded out from behind a pile of…_palm fronds? _Where had he gotten palm fronds? What was he doing with _plants, _and why – Kurogane froze – _why _didn't he have a shirt on?

Fai was grinning like a polecat, his smile stretched from ear to ear. He wore only a pair of jeans that were trying to slide down him, the waistband of his boxers poking up in the back. Canvas, it seemed, had grown too conventional for him: Fai had actually painted _himself_. Streaks of red and black cut across his face, and snaking down his body, in thick, black brush strokes, was an ornate pattern that could have passed for a tattoo.

"I was inspired," he explained. "You know the saying, 'does art imitate life, or does life imitate art?'"

"No," he said. His throat felt suddenly tight. Fai pressed on, ignoring him.

"Well, I thought – why not _combine _them? _Living _art!" He held open his hands wide, showing off his work on his body.

Kurogane stood there, uncertain what to say. His eyes followed the snaking pattern, following their movement down his body, past his boxers, down into the jeans –

"Did you take your pants off!"

"You just missed it." Tomoyo threaded a garment through the sewing machine, smiling serenely. "Fai-kun has been naked all morning. The paint dried, so he put his pants back on."

Kurogane gawked.

"Tomoyo-chan is a very progressive and open-minded individual," Fai explained quickly. "I swear it wasn't anywhere near as indecent as it sounds!"

"Oh, no, Fai-kun is very modest, that's why the plants are here." She pointed to them in the corner.

"See?" Fai grinned. "I'm a perfect gentleman."

"You're a perfect _something,_" he conceded.

"Wait." Fai clapped his hands together suddenly, his eyes shining. "I have an idea. Okay, now hear me out. How about you…._Kurogane_," he emphasized, his voice eager to please, "Let me paint you?"

He might as well have asked him to submit to a flaying. "No."

"Oh, come _on_." He slumped against the tree sculpture; bits of feathers and cloths tumbled down. "I even said your name right."

"I wish you'd say it right more often!"

"Fai-kun was hoping you would come by so he could paint you." Tomoyo continued to sew in her corner of calm, completely undisturbed by anything. "Fai-kun, you should respect Kurogane-san's wishes, you know."

Kurogane stopped; had Fai really…actually _talked _about him to Tomoyo? Or was this all a trap? Tomoyo was smiling at him in her dreamy, knowing way, and Fai was grinning…it could definitely be a trap. But still…

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

Fai actually _whooped. _It was the sort of sound that made Kurogane want to run, very fast, out of the sub-studio, but suddenly Fai's hands were on him, pushing him to sit down on the floor, grabbing his shirt –

_"HEY!"_

"I'm not going to ruin your clothes! Come on, take your shirt off!"

He shrugged out of his T-shirt. Behind him, Tomoyo swiveled around and reached for it.

"The only place it'll stay clean is over here with me," she said.

"Thanks," he grumbled, but his attention was elsewhere. Fai had ducked back behind the plants. When he emerged, he carried a pale of black paint and a thick paint brush.

"Okay," he said. Kurogane felt uncomfortable with Fai behind him, where he couldn't see. "Just sit still! I'll tell you when I'm done."

He cursed himself for shivering; he wasn't sure if it was the cold paint on his skin, the delicate way the brush slid over his spine, or Fai's fingertips on his shoulders. Either way, it was hard to sit still and breathe evenly. He had thought that Fai would hum, chatter incessantly…but no, for once, he was completely silent; his intensity was palpable. The brush slid in movements down his shoulders; fingertips were pressing into the small of his back, and he was praying to any god that would listen that Fai didn't comment on the goosebumps all over his skin.

Fai stood up behind him; he could feel his eyes examining the work he had just created.

"Okay…" He walked around in front of him, crouching down. For the first time, they stood looking levelly at each other, face to face, inches apart. Kurogane tensed.

Fai concentrated, studying him. "What color are your eyes?" He leaned a little closer. Kurogane fought back the conflicting urges of leaning in and punching him away; caught between the two poles of agony and ecstasy, he remained frozen, an inert captive. "Red?" Fai cocked his head to the side. "Maybe it's just the lighting in here. Okay, lift your arms up."

He did a convincing job of showing how bothered and inconvenienced he was, he thought. He _hoped._

Fai reached forward again, his hand resting flat against his chest, painting him, dragging the brush over the definitions in his body, connecting it under his sides back to the design before. Kurogane closed his eyes so he didn't have to look at him, didn't have to concentrate on how _close _he was, how his bangs brushed across his skin by accident, softer than the hairs of the paint brush –

"Done." Fai rocked back and stood up, staring at him with the critical appreciation of an artist observing his work. "Okay, stand up. Let's have a look."

Kurogane got to his feet, feeling a bit dizzy, as if this was all a dream, but no…Fai was dragging a mirror out from behind the tree sculpture, propping it up. Tomoyo stopped her sewing to look at the finished product.

He looked at himself in the mirror, shocked. He expectations hadn't been very high, but all-in-all…he grinned wolfishly.

"What do you think?"

"Pretty fucking cool." The black and red paint moved together in sharp, jagged edges, unlike the swirls Fai had created on himself. It reminded him of tribal war paint. He turned around and brought his arms up, craning over his shoulder to stare at his back.

"You're pretty strong, Kurogane-san!" Tomoyo pointed at him, her smile appreciative.

"Huh?" He could appreciate the result of his hard work and training; his body was toned, defined, and with his arms stretching above his head, flexing, he was a formidable looking man, but still…it was weird to think that someone else would notice. In the mirror, he caught a glimpse of Fai's expression; he seemed strangely uncomfortable. He was holding his arms behind his back, not even looking at him, his eyes trained on the floor, shifting on his weight…and with a start, Kurogane couldn't believe that Fai, the man who Kurogane couldn't get out of his thoughts a month straight, with his sleek body and blue eyes, could _possibly_ feel inadequate next to him.

And yet, when Kurogane dropped his arms and turned around to face him, Fai only managed a half-smile. "Looks great," he said.

"Fai-kun, do you want me to take a picture?" Tomoyo began searching on her workplace for a camera.

"No, Tomoyo-chan, thank you." Fai turned away from them both, rummaging on the ground for something. "Life is fleeting. Art should be, too." He stood up again with a rag, tossing it to Kurogane. He still wasn't looking at him. "I've got some mineral spirits around here you can use to get it off…"

"Eh, I kinda like it." He grinned a little again, but Fai only stared at him. "I think I'll show Syaoran."

"It's not dry, though," he said. "You'll have to stay for awhile before you can put your shirt on…" He trailed off, but his expression was, for once, readable. He wanted him to go.

"Forget it." All the art kids already stared at him withhis shirt _on_ – he'd give them a reason to really look now. "I'll see you when you get home."

"Yea." Fai watched him leave. "See you, Kuro-pon."

Behind him, Kurogane heard the blond give a weary sigh.

"Tomoyo-chan," Fai's voice carried through the sheets, "I think I'm done with painting…I'll try metals next."

Productivity came to a screeching halt as he walked through the art studio, bare-chested and painted like a warrior, as more than a dozen pairs of eyes stopped to gawk at him.

* * *

><p>February had snuck up on them, the cold lifting considerably. The winter had been unseasonably hot, eager to be done with. Kurogane discovered that Fai's mood swings could be as dramatic as his own; he'd find him spinning in the kitchen (literally spinning: Fai had a penchant for doing everything with a flourish) one moment and staring off into space, eyes downcast the next.<p>

They ate their meals together regularly now; Syaoran mostly filled the void with talking about a girl he had developed a hopeless, gradeschool-esque crush on. Fai would goad him into talking about her, and Kurogane would watch as the boy worked himself up into being unable to utter complete sentences. Finally, just after the week of February, Kurogane had had enough, barking at him to take her out to dinner and be done with it.

To his surprise, Syaoran had actually got up the nerve to do it.

"Just us for dinner tonight, Kuro-rin! It's a date!"

"It's not a date," he snapped. He was lying on the couch, watching a basketball game.

"_Okay, _it's not a date…you're such a heartbreaker…" Fai ignored him, yanking a pan out from a cabinet as he prepared to cook. The minutes passed, and once again, Kurogane found himself unable to watch the television.

"What's up with you?" Kurogane was doing a bad job of not looking at his roommate; he'd tried, unsuccessfully, for the past five minutes to avoid glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. After more than a month, he should have realized that it was a losing battle, but like a headstrong soldier, he fought on in his endless war with himself: Kurogane could no more _not _pay attention to Fai than he could stop thinking about him.

Fai was in the kitchen, either making dinner…or stretching. He kept bending over, disappearing under the counter, or arching back. It was distracting him from the game. That was all, he told himself.

"I was welding all day." Fai stretched up on his toes, his arms craning all the way behind him until it looked as though he might snap, his fingertips coming all the way up to the top of the cabinets. "My back is killing me. I don't like welding," he pouted, rummaging in a drawer. "I think I'm done with metals. Too much _work…_"

"Especially for someone as lazy as you," he retorted.

Fai ignored the jab, pulling out a chopping block and a knife. "I'd do anything for a massage," he sighed.

"I could give you one."

They looked at each other with equal parts shock; Fai blinked at him, as if unable to comprehend Kurogane's very _existence, _let alone wrap his mind around the idea of his roommate, who was, at best, less than friendly, offering to give him a massage. Kurogane stared back in disbelief; the words had slipped out before he'd even realized he'd _thought _them, let alone said them.

Silence stretched between them.

"I have a personal trainer," he said, too fast to seem casual, "She gives me massages. For muscle cramps. It's not hard." Kurogane was furious with himself;_ I sound like a fucking idiot._

"Okay!"

His heart stopped; Fai had put the knife down and undid his apron. He flung it over one of the kitchen chairs, turning off the stove burner. Kurogane watched, his heart racing in a tight, unfamiliar way, as Fai stepped out from behind the counter and stripped his shirt off. _Why did he have to take his shirt off…fucking hell…_

"Where at?" He stood there, half-naked and lean. Kurogane fought for control, his blood racing in his body: he was actually going to _touch _him…

"Your room." His voice was clipped; he tried to seem casual as he turned the television off, stood up, and followed Fai into his domain of chaos.

"Don't mind the mess." Fai stepped over piles of books and empty paint bottles. A small nightstand next to his bed stood with its bottom drawer hanging out; Fai yanked it open, pulled out a bottle of lotion, and tossed it at him.

"That should work?"

"Yea," he mumbled. His heart was still beating too fast. He'd never felt this anxious about something before, not since he first started competing professionally. He was a bastion of confidence and poise before he met Fai…and now he was standing there awkwardly, watching as his roommate lay face down on the bed, his arms at his side, face buried into his pillow.

_This is actually happening. _Adrenaline was rushing through him. He'd been watching Fai for so long, thinking about him, hating him _because _he made him think about him…and now he was actually going to _touch _him…

A muffled voice rose up from the pillow. "Do you need something?"

"No." He didn't want Fai to know what he was thinking, or feeling, or…or anything about him. It would easiest to get on the bed and straddle him from behind –

Kurogane felt his member harden and decided to just stand.

The lotion was cool in his hands, or maybe his own skin was just burning now. He reached out, still not believing his fantasy had become a reality, and touched Fai.

The blond made no reaction as Kurogane slid his hands over his spine, up to his shoulders. Fai's back dipped low into a well-defined arch, curving down a slender form that tapered into a trim waist. He let both his hands grasp either side of him, his fingertips feeling his ribs, and discovered what it felt like to run his hands down that graceful form.

He pressed into the small of his back, working his way up Fai's spinal column; fingertips would press deep into the muscle, discovering knots, and his knuckles would curl under then, kneading. The first time Fai sucked in his breath, Kurogane felt a wave of dizziness crash into him; he could feel his hardened length pressing painfully against him, raw need for release electrifying his nerves.

He was torturing himself; he'd never admit it, but he was pressing harder, more forcefully each time, in an effort to discover the sounds that Fai could make. When he finally reached his shoulders, curving his fingers over his shoulder blades, pressing into the tissue around his neck, Fai was groaning – actually _groaning _– and Kurogane grit his teeth, his face flush with shame, eyes squinting tight as his grip suddenly tightened with the effort to think of something else, _anything _to distract him from that throbbing need in his pants.

Fai cried out, jerking under his grasp. "_Ow_,_" _came the complaint. "I guess that's the spot…"

"Yea," he said. "Shut up." His head was buzzing with embarrassment, his thoughts so preoccupied that he didn't notice when the front door opened, when Syaoran's voice called through the living room, or when Syaoran was standing in the open doorway, gaping at them.

Kurogane stepped back as if he'd been struck. "It's not –"

"Hi, Syaoran!" Fai turned his head to look at the freshman, a happy smile plastered on his face. His eyes were glazed over. "Kurogane was giving me a massage. Want one?"

Kurogane started in, angry; he needed to get out of that room and into a shower. A cold one. "You can't just offer someone a massage you're not going to give yourself –"

"You know how to give a massage?" Syaoran's eyes were wide. Kurogane faltered; he looked like such a dumb little kid. "Really?"

"I have a personal trainer," he mumbled, "But look, no –"

"You're going to love it!" Fai sat up suddenly, swinging his legs over his bed. Kurogane watched the way his toned body stretched out like a cat after a long, hard nap. "You could sell those services! I'll bet the ladies would love it," he grinned, winking at him.

Kurogane threw the lotion at him; Fai ducked as he stalked past him, grabbing Syaoran by the collar.

"Fine," he snapped. "Make it quick. And _don't _talk about your girlfriend."

Syaoran turned a vivid scarlet. "She's n-not my girlfriend –"

"I said don't talk about her!"

Ten minutes later, Kurogane was rubbing the chords in Syaoran's neck, furious at the world. The boy was seated on the floor in front of the couch; Kurogane leaned back, staring down at his rumpled hair with annoyance. His thoughts were racing; he'd actually gotten hard from touching Fai, and…well, he still needed a shower. He was half afraid when the freshman had unbuttoned his shirt and sat down in front of him that he'd get hard again, but no…nothing. He remembered the way his chest had tightened, his heart raced, and felt relieved to discover that the only thing he felt when Syaoran squeaked beneath him was general amusement and slight annoyance.

_So this proves it, that I'm not…_he couldn't even bring himself to think it. _I'm not attracted to guys._

"Ow!"

"Hold still." His fist had involuntarily tightened at the thought. Anger boiled over in the pit of his stomach now; _it's just Fai,_ he thought, slipping into the well-worn ruts of his mind._ And I'm not attracted to HIM, either. _It was just Fai who had this…this _power _over him, somehow, who made him confused and flustered and so _angry _–

"_Erg…_Kurogane, thanks, but I feel pretty good…now." Syaoran scooted away from him. He rubbed his shoulder, wincing, and began backpedaling to his room down the hall.

"You've got quite a grip, Kuro-pon!"

A dark gaze swung to Fai's doorway, where the blond stood now, grinning. Still shirtless. He was watching Syaoran disappear, calling out to him that he wanted all the details on his date later.

Kurogane said nothing as Fai returned to the kitchen, scooping his shirt back up. The smells of pasta and tomato sauce soon filled the living room.

When they were seated at the kitchen table a half hour later, Kurogane did his best to keep his eyes on his spaghetti, resolutely not looking at Fai, who was grinning – no, _leering _at him – from across his food.

"So tell me, Kuro-rin…why do you keep visiting my studio?"

Kurogane glanced up at him. "I told you," he said. "I like art."

Fai's eyes sparkled with some secret knowledge. "I think I know what you _really _like." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Or rather, _who_."

Kurogane froze; surely Fai couldn't know…_couldn't know what? That you wake up with a hard on every morning because you think about him all night? Is that it? _Fai was looking at him like a man about to score a checkmate. He knew he should have stopped visiting the damn studio, avoided him entirely – he would just deny it, because it wasn't _true _anyways –

"You don't have to hide it." Fai winked at him. "It's pretty obvious."

Now he was angry. Of course it was obvious; he'd just spent the last half hour massaging a guy; how could it _not_ be obvious? What had he even been thinking…? He set his fork down, his arms shaking with rage. So he _did _know, and he thought it was funny…_we'll see how funny it is when I smash his fucking face against the wall…_

"People won't stop hounding Tomoyo." Fai settled back, all smiles. "Not since the day I painted you. Our studio was _swarmed _with people wanting to know who you were! Everyone wants your number, not to mention I know a few ladies who would pay you to pose for a nude portrait – and I'm being _serious, _I swear!" Kurogane sat, dumbfounded, as he prattled on. "And I get it – you're a bit a shy – you haven't asked her out yet, and _that's why _I thought you'd never get the courage to do it in time."

"Ask her out?" _Tomoyo? _He felt winded. "In…in time?"

"For Valentine's Day!" Fai beamed.

"Valentine's Day?"

"Next week." Fai gave him an odd look. "So anyways, you don't have to thank me, but I've arranged it…you and Tomoyo-chan are going on a date. I know, don't look so thrilled!" He twirled spaghetti around his fork, grinning. "I told her you couldn't work up the nerve to ask her yourself, so you asked me to do it – it's a little white lie, but we both know you're just a shy little puppy. You should have seen how happy she was!"

His mind was reeling; on one hand, he wanted to yell at Fai for thinking he couldn't get the courage up to talk to some girl, but on the other…if he denied being interested in Tomoyo, then what would Fai think about him coming around to his studio? In a way, it was a nice cover…_cover for what? _He asked himself, clearing his thoughts. No, it was better to just go along with it. Tomoyo was a nice enough girl anyways; he could stand to go on a date with her, and then no one would suspect anything, and if no one suspected otherwise, he'd never have to deny it.

"Thanks." He finished his meal and pushed away, dumping his plates in the sink.

"Where you off to, Kuro-pon?"

"_Shower._"

"We're out of hot water!" Fai called.

"Perfect." The bathroom door slammed shut behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

In the week leading up to Valentine's Day, Tomoyo didn't act any differently toward him, for which Kurogane was grateful. Fai, on the other hand, was getting out of control and testing the very limits of his patience. The worst part of it all, between his suggestive winks and tomcat grins, were his wolf-whistles.

Or rather, his _non-_wolf-whistles. Fai didn't know how to whistle, and after six days of him _saying _the sound, a hideous "Wheeeeeeeeet-wooooo!" when he'd walk into their studio, he finally pulled him aside and threatened to disembowel him, drape his innards over the stupid tree sculpture, and call it art. Fai had declared that would be remarkably avant-garde and post-modern, but when he caught the glint of seriousness in those red eyes, he stopped whistling…loudly, anyways. Kurogane was almost certain he'd heard him make the fucking noise under his breath again on Friday.

He shot a poisonous look at the blond who was seated in, of all strange things, a pile of broken pottery. He had switched mediums again.

"I'll see you tomorrow at five, right Kurogane-san?" Tomoyo turned to him, her hair braided today with pink ribbons. He nodded uncomfortably.

"Do you…do you want to go out to dinner? Or something."

It was hard to act normal with Fai _leering _at them from his pottery mess on the floor.

"Oh, no!" Tomoyo clapped her hands together delightedly. "I was hoping I could meet you at the library and we could have a picnic by the lake."

"Tomoyo-chan, that sounds so wonderfully romantic – ah, you missed, Kuro-pon!" Fai ducked; Kurogane had kicked the jagged rim of a pot at him.

"Five," he grunted. "See you then."

And while he was dreading Saturday, Syaoran, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck.

"_Christ _kid, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

When he got home, Syaoran was slumped over the kitchen counter, pale and sweating, as if he was fighting off a fever brought on from nerves and excitement. A stack of pans sat in the sink with soggy food in them, the smell of burnt cake clogging the air.

"What did you try to do?" He glanced into the sink, where the disaster lurked. Syaoran sighed.

"I'm trying to make Sakura a cake…I have all the ingredients, but I can't get it to come out right. We're going on a date tomorrow, for Valentine's Day…"

Kurogane was ready for Valentine's Day to be over. He made himself comfortable on the couch, turning on a game. "Wait for the freak to get home," he ordered. "He can bake."

When Fai came home later in the evening, Syaoran was still slumping in the kitchen. He looked up wearily.

"Oh my goodness, Syaoran, you look…are you okay?" Fai walked over and felt his forehead. "You're hot."

"He's been standing by the stove for hours," Kurogane called. "Trying to bake his girlfriend a cake."

"She's not my –"

Kurogane cut him off, annoyed. "How long is it taking you to get laid!"

Fai shot him a dirty look. "Kuro-puppy_, _where are your _manners_?"

Syaoran looked as though he wanted to crawl under the pans in the sink, slip down the drain, and die somewhere in a dark pipe. "That…that is such a horrible thing to say…"

"_Okay, _let's not talk to Kuro-pu about women. Let's focus on the cake."

Syaoran sighed again, but when Kurogane watched him look up at Fai, there was something different in his expression, a timid nervousness. When he spoke, he sounded as though he was apologizing. "…Do you still have the recipes?"

For a moment, cold shock flashed across Fai's face; he stiffened, and with great force fought for control. For only the second time, Kurogane saw him smile – _really _smile, not his fake one, but the small, sad kind – and nod.

Fai disappeared in his room; when he came back, he was holding a small, innocuous recipe box. He began to flip through the cards inside, pausing.

"How about strawberry shortcake? Girls love strawberry shortcake."

"I'll bet you do, too," Kurogane remarked.

"It's true!" Whatever slump Fai had been in disappeared. He grabbed his apron, tugging it over his head. "The fastest way into my pants is through dessert!"

Syaoran's ears were burning now. "I am _not _interested in doing _that _with Sakura!"

"And you yelled at _me _for making a sex joke," Kurogane snapped.

An hour and a half later, after Syaoran slumped off to his room and a perfect, bakery-worthy strawberry shortcake sat on the counter, Kurogane stood up from the couch, turning off the television. He shoved his hands into his pockets, slouching.

"Any plans for tomorrow?"

"Nope!" Fai was scooping the remaining whipped cream from the mixing bowl, licking it off his fingers. Kurogane watched him, resigning himself to another restless night.

He smirked. "Your boyfriend busy?"

"And my girlfriend, too." Fai drug his hand through the bowl, sucking the cream off his fingers one by one. Kurogane decided he would need a cold shower before bed, too. He couldn't remember what warm water felt like anymore. "And speaking of girlfriends," Fai said, tossing the bowl in the sink. "_Do _try to be a gentleman to Tomoyo-chan. She's looking forward to the date, and if you're mean to her, I'll find out and make you pay."

"Yea?" He leaned back on the edge of the couch, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "You gonna beat me up?"

"Don't think I won't!"

"Give it your best shot."

Fai stepped around the corner, striking a fighter's pose. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Are you ready for me, Kuro-pu?"

"Terrified." He rolled his eyes.

_Plunk. _

Fai batted at his bicep playfully. "There you go. Do I need to rush you to the hospital?"

"That's your best, huh?" He felt a sudden, boyish urge to show off his strength in a display of bravado.

"Nah." Fai smiled at him coyly. "If I'm going to punch you, I'll aim for your head. And it'll _hurt_," he promised.

"Tck. We'll see."

"Be on less than your best behavior and you _will _see!" Laughing, Fai disappeared into his room.

* * *

><p>Kurogane had made himself look presentable, a task he had accomplished with much annoyance. He wore crisp, black pants, and a matching black collared shirt. He was halfway to the library to meet Tomoyo when it occurred to him that he looked a bit morose for Valentine's Day.<p>

Tomoyo, on the other hand, was radiant. She wore a bright yellow dress patterned with white flowers, purple ribbons tied around the waist, her dark hair falling down her back in soft tresses of curls, a picnic basket balanced on one arm with a blanket looped through the handles. They greeted each other, and if she sensed his awkwardness, she didn't acknowledge it. Instead, her face lit up with a smile as he offered to carry the basket for her. Other couples had gathered around the lake, the dorms visible just in the distance, but Tomoyo gestured to go away from everyone else, right down near the water's edge. He helped her lay out the blanket and watched as she busied herself.

Kurogane sat down awkwardly, mentally preparing himself for what was assured to be an uncomfortable dinner. The sun was beginning to set; it reminded him a bit of Fai's art studio. Oranges and purples splashed across the sky like spilled paint, deepening into radiant gold above the trees.

The light caught in Tomoyo's sleek raven hair, illuminating her skin. He frowned, watching her unpack her picnic basket. She was a lovely girl – too small, he thought, at least for him – but beautiful and good-natured. She deserved to spend the holiday with someone actually interested in her. As miserable as he was, he was determined not to hurt her feelings, if he could help it; he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to help it, but still…he could try. Otherwise, Fai had promised to punch him…

"I've been learning how to make American meals," she said. "But I love tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure."

Tomoyo smiled; he watched the flower patterns on her dress snake in and out of each other like curling wisps of smoke, giving him something to focus on as she set out cups, filling them from a thermos. He looked down at the steaming tea, trying to work himself up to mumbling a thank you.

She took her glass and sat back, her legs folding under her. One hand cupped the glass in a flat palm, raising it to her lips. As she sipped, her lips turned upward into another smile, eyes closing in delight. He tried the tea and was surprised to discover how good it was, bitter and strong.

"Ah." She opened her eyes and set the cup down, staring at him. "I love picnics. I'm so sorry you're stuck here with me."

He almost didn't catch her words; he wasn't paying attention, and she said them with all the easy-going nature of someone remarking on the weather forecast.

"I'm happy to be here with you," he tried, but it sounded too fake and insincere to go on.

Tomoyo laughed. "No, you'd rather be somewhere else…with someone else. This is a misunderstanding."

There was something about the way she was looking at him that made him grow suddenly still. He knew he should say something, _do something, _but all he could do was sit, frozen, with Tomoyo's eyes casting a gaze that went straight to his soul.

"Kurogane-san," she said, her voice gentle, "…I'm not the reason you stop by the studio every day."

It wasn't a question; how she knew, he had no idea, but there was something about her that made denial futile, even as his pride fought against it. Tomoyo didn't hide her feelings or expect anyone else to do so around her. "…No."

"You don't like me. Not like _that_." Anyone else, and he might have protested, grown angry, but with Tomoyo sitting there, her hair spilling down her back all the way onto the blanket, he felt only the futility of denial.

"No." Every moment brought him closer to the edge of a cliff he could feel in the distance. He wanted to dig his ankles into the dirt to stop himself from being flung over the edge, but the distance was closing too rapidly.

"…You like Fai-kun…don't you?"

He didn't know how he was supposed to breathe and speak at the same time. "Yes," he whispered. "But that doesn't mean – I'm not –"

Tomoyo reached forward and touched his hand; he looked down, surprised to see that his fingers had curled into shaking fists in his lap. He looked up again to see Tomoyo's face, radiant and kind, beaming at him.

"It's okay," she said. "It just is what it is."

It felt like a tension that had been building inside him for a month and a half left his body all at once; he sighed, unaware that he had been holding his breath, amazed. It felt as though a bolder had been crushing his chest slowly, and now – now, at last – he could breathe.

Tomoyo settled back, pulling food out of the basket: sandwiches, fruit…rice balls. "Onigiri," she said, holding one up.

His throat still felt too tight. "…Does Fai know?"

"I think that's a question you'll have to ask him." She passed him a sandwich.

"People don't just…talk about that sort of thing."

"Well, sometimes they do." She nibbled at an onigiri.

"…Are you going to tell him?"

"No." She smiled at him again. "That's not my place."

He wasn't sure why – maybe it was because Tomoyo, despite their short acquaintance, knew him better than he had known himself – but he relaxed in her presence. Kurogane ate the food quietly, lost in his thoughts.

"Can I ask you a question?" Tomoyo nodded, sipping her tea. "The studio. Do you know who Fai used to share it with?"

Tomoyo's smile fell away; he wanted to take the question back, but for some reason, of everything he wanted to say, it was bothering him the most. Who was it whose void he had stepped into? A past lover? A friend?

"I'm sorry, Kurogane-san." She looked so sad suddenly, remembering some knowledge he didn't possess. "I think, that, too, is a question you'll have to ask Fai-kun…but not now. If you don't know, then he doesn't want you to know."

"But –"

"It would hurt him if you asked."

He fell silent. He needed to change the topic, anything to make her less sad and make him feel like less of an ass. "Suffixes," he tried, talking too fast. "What do they mean?"

"Oh." She blinked at him. "It depends what they are."

"Why do you say _san _after my name and _kun _after Fai's?"

"Oh!" He felt relief wash over him; she was smiling again. "Because Fai-kun feels like a little brother to me."

"He has all these stupid names he calls me." It felt weird to talk openly about Fai, but at the same time, he felt like he could say anything to Tomoyo now, now that he'd admitted…he'd admitted he liked the blonde bastard. _But not much, _he reasoned. He started ticking them off, growing more frustrated as Tomoyo shook her head.

"_Tan?_"

"Nothing."

"_Chi?_"

"Nope."

"Pu, pon…_puppy,_" he bit off with particular vengeance.

"All meaningless. Just pet names!"

"_Rin?_"

"_Oh._" Tomoyo's smile doubled, and to his horror, she _twittered. _"_Oh,_" she said again. "Well, that one does mean something."

"What?"

"It means you should eat this food quickly so you can go home and have a happy Valentine's Day!" She shoved another sandwich at him, her smile beaming with delight.

"What are you, a fucking matchmaker? Ah…sorry," he mumbled.

His gruffness didn't bother her. Instead, she looked at him warmly.

"No, Kurogane-san," she said. "I'm just a friend."

**A/N: Posting two chapters, again! See, I'm a nice person! Sure, I torture people with plots, but I promise I pay off in the end…thanks for your reviews so far, they totally make my day! Things have been a bit gloomy (job hunting and all), but thank you for reading my fic!  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Fai was lying on the couch when Kurogane came home, his head propped up on his hand, elbow digging into the cushions, watching the television. Kurogane shut the door behind him; a mop of blonde hair turned to him.

"Hey, Kuro-rin!" Fai winked. "How'd it go?"

"Good." He walked over to the couch, pausing. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure." Fai sat up and tossed him the remote. "I wasn't really watching anything."

"You going out later?" He was actually a little impressed with himself; he always got so flustered and angry around Fai, but now he was sitting here, collected and cool, clicking through channels on the television. He could credit that to Tomoyo, he supposed.

"No, no plans. I can't stand to have my heart broken again." He spoke with a dramatic flourish.

Kurogane only raised an eyebrow at him. "Again?"

Fai frowned a bit at his lack of response. "No, I'm just kidding. Syaoran is still out with Sakura…I hope he stays out a _long_ time." He emphasized the wish with a suggestive wink.

"Oh?"

Blue eyes narrowed. Fai fell silent and settled back onto the couch.

"You should go on dates with Tomoyo-chan more often," he suggested. "You're acting like a normal person."

Kurogane shrugged. For a moment Fai looked as though he was determined to redouble his efforts to vex him, then sighed, giving up. "There's a basketball game about to be on, if you don't mind. I'd like to watch it."

That threw him for a loop. Kurogane turned to look at him, staring at him for the first time since he'd gotten home. Fai was wearing a loose, white sweater, exposing his clavicle, and, of all strange things, what appeared to be blue, cotton scrubs. He looked…_cute, _Kurogane thought.

_Don't think that, _he admonished himself, then stopped. _Why not? _What was wrong with thinking it? What had Tomoyo said…_it is what it is._

"I didn't know you like sports."

"I know, I get it." Fai rolled his eyes. "I'm a pansy, effeminate male who drinks tea when I get my period." He shoved his hands into the pockets of the scrubs; two long legs stretched out, crossing at the ankles as he propped them up on the coffee table. "_And _I'm majoring in art. A prissy girl like me couldn't _possibly _like sports. Especially not basketball. Because –"

"Fai, stop."

He hadn't said it with any particular force, for once; it was probably one of the few times he'd spoken to him without sounding like an absolute asshole, but still, Fai's mouth snapped shut as though he had yelled at him. Kurogane looked at him, into those blue eyes that had gone suddenly cold and angry, and sighed.

"I'm sorry." He was constantly astonished by how _hard _it was to say those words. _Why do I sound like such a fucking idiot? _He wanted to curse, but no; Fai's expression had changed, as if he couldn't quite believe what Kurogane had said. "I shouldn't have said those things. I was being an asshole." He felt weary all of a sudden. "I just didn't know you liked sports. That's all."

Fai was blinking at him, unsure what to say. "…Well…I guess we both learned something today then, eh, Kuro-pu?"

He chuckled a little. "Yea? And what'd _you_ learn?"

Fai stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"My god…I learned you could _laugh. _Syaoran will _never_ believe me!"

He put the basketball game on compliantly, but his mind kept wandering back to Tomoyo and her words. His eyes mechanically followed the player's movements across the court, finding music in the sound of sneakers scuffing on the freshly waxed floor.

_Does Fai know? _He'd asked. _I think that's a question for him, _she had said.

_You can't just ASK someone that…can you? _He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Fai. There was no way he'd be able to just bring it up…he felt stupid every time he talked to him. Or angry. Mostly angry.

He stretched his arms out on the back of the couch as casually as he could, reclining. His heart was beginning to beat faster in a familiar way. _Are you really going to do this? _He was afraid of what might happen, afraid to admit that he was afraid of anything at all…

He let his right arm drop a little. His fingertips touched the very edge of Fai's hair, marveling at how soft it was. If Fai noticed, he didn't move, and Kurogane kept his eyes resolutely on the television in an effort to control his nerves.

He moved a little, letting the strands play through his fingers, before pressing forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of Fai's neck.

From his right, he heard the faint sound of breath catching; he felt Fai stiffen under his touch. It was slight enough that he could turn back now; he could pretend he had nodded off watching the game, his hand had slipped off the couch, touched the back of his head – no big deal.

Kurogane felt his stomach turning over with tension, his blood rushing in his ears. He let his hand slide down behind Fai's neck, his fingertips reaching up through his hair, thumb rubbing the skin, marveling at the feeling.

Neither one of them moved; they both watched the game without speaking, as if pretending Kurogane wasn't caressing his neck, touching his hair, as if they weren't alone, as if this wasn't happening…

_So what happens now? He's not pushing me away…but he's not doing anything, either…_ Kurogane had run down men twice his size and not felt a single shred of fear. Now, his vision was blurry with the anxiety. _Fine, my move then… _But everything could go wrong, he reminded himself, Fai could yell at him, Fai could _tell_ someone… A burning need to kiss him flared to life in him; to hell with everything else.

Turning to face Fai was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Kurogane didn't speak. He lifted his hand away from Fai's hair, tracing his fingers under his chin with shaking hands, pulling his face forward to meet him. Wide, shocked eyes were staring at him, but not resisting.

Kurogane closed his eyes, the sound of his heart slamming in his ribs echoing in his body, and kissed him.

It was hardly a kiss, really: he'd barely leaned forward enough to so much as brush their lips together, but it was a start…and although Fai had yet to react, he had yet to push him away, either. Kurogane didn't want to open his eyes and see rejection or judgment there; he only leaned forward again, this time more forcefully, and kissed him properly.

Fai's lips were softer than he imagined they would be. As long as he kept his eyes closed, Kurogane was able to find enough courage to reach forward with both hands, grasping him, pushing his fingers up through hair that was brushing against his face. He turned his whole body to him, pressing him down until Fai's head rested against the end of the couch, his legs hanging off of the edge, with Kurogane looming over him.

It was slow, hesitant at first, but Kurogane felt Fai tilt his head back to meet him, returning the kiss.

It enflamed him. He kissed him more fiercely, deepening the moment as Fai opened his mouth, letting Kurogane's tongue slide over his lips, pressing into him. Two thin, shaking arms came up and grasped his shirt, tugging him down closer. With a start, Kurogane realized that Fai was actually trembling beneath him. _He's actually nervous…fuck, I'm the one who should be nervous, but he's actually shaking… _His confidence soared with the absurdity of it.

They were still kissing when the basketball game was over, sports commentators droning on the television, when one of Fai's hands slid down from his side, tentatively touching him through his jeans. Kurogane kissed him with a greater sense of urgency as fingertips brushed his hardening member through his pants.

Fai stopped, breaking away from Kurogane, the two of them looking at each other, each trying to catch his breath without shattering the moment.

"Syaoran will be home soon." Fai's voice was barely audible above the television.

Kurogane studied his face, trying to decipher what his words meant. Did that mean they should stop? That this was wrong, or good, or both?

"We could go in my room." He listened to himself speak words that seemed to come from somewhere else. Fai was looking at him, his mouth opening as though he wanted to say something more, but Kurogane's gaze was set, pleading _we don't need to talk about this. We don't need to discuss what we're doing, or think about it. _

Fai stopped, nodding.

His body felt like lead when he sat up, turning the television off. It would have been easy to go into his room, shut the door, and pretend that the last forty five minutes or so had never happened. Fai could go into his room, turn off the lights; they would sleep, think this was a dream, and never discuss it. _Ever. _

But he waited in his doorway, Fai slipping past him. They were together now, cut off from the world, and Fai was standing there awkwardly, his face struggling to put on a goofy smile and make light of the situation but somehow not managing to pull it off. The smile kept slipping away, falling into a face that was pale and uncertain.

Kurogane felt his gut twist again; he didn't know if inviting Fai into his room meant that the blond would have some sort of expectation now, if that meant that they were going to have to do more than kiss, if they could ever turn back, open the door again, and _forget it, this was a bad a idea –_

He turned the lights off, struggling against himself. It would be easier in the dark.

He moved forward and pushed Fai down onto the bed, straddling him. Why was it so hard to _breathe _and kiss someone at the same time? Fai's sweater was suddenly a lot less cute when it was tangled in his spindly arms. He managed to yank it off with a final jerk, tossing it to the floor.

He let his hands roam over his body, pressing against the skin with his fingertips. Where a woman's breasts, soft and malleable, would be, flat, lean muscle was pulled taunt by a body that was straining into his touch. Kurogane shivered, blood rushing to his groin: it was maddeningly attractive. _I don't like men, _he thought furiously, still fighting against the voice in his head, _just him. It's just Fai... _His thumb passed over Fai's nipple, feeling the hard peak of flesh, and listened to the sound of Fai's breathing quicken.

_Anyone would be attracted to him, _he reassured himself, dragging his hand down that body, tugging the scrubs down past long legs that fought to kick them off completely. He knew Fai was nearly naked under him, but in the dark, he didn't have to acknowledge it; he was a split person, a body acting on its own accord, reacting to a physical need. _That's all…this doesn't have to mean anything…_

He reached down, grasping Fai through his boxers, his mind reeling in an attempt to stay above the surface of his thoughts.

"_Nng!" _

Fai shuddered below him, gasping. Kurogane pressed forward, pinning him with both legs, caressing him through the boxers, drinking in his sounds. He was sweating and wreathing, trying to escape that torture. It wasn't until Fai reached up and touched his own member again that Kurogane was thrown off balance.

The blond escaped, squirming out from under him. Long legs were suddenly straddling his waist, unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands, pulling it off him. Kurogane fell backwards, grasping his hips, and bucked up into them.

The way Fai touched him was like a man unsure if he was real or not; his fingers slid down the grooves of his muscles, tracing the contours of his body. Kurogane closed his eyes and submitted, his mind dizzy with the pleasure of hands on his body, lips pressing against his skin.

"Good god." Fai gasped, poking the solid mass beneath him. "Just how often do you work out?"

"All week," he mumbled. "Why?"

"How much can you bench press?"

Kurogane struggled to think, his thoughts with the hard-on in his jeans. "Four fifty."

"_Four hundred and fifty pounds?_"

"Yea, why? Wait –"

Fai was fumbling with the zipper on his pants, pulling them down off his hips. He felt strangely vulnerable lying beneath Fai; for all his strength and stature, he was gripping the sheets when Fai's fingers found the waistline of his boxers, tugging them down.

Fai slid off to his side, pulling his underwear down; Kurogane was bristling now with nerves. A hand was resting on his inner thigh, Fai's lips were kissing him, his tongue tracing the lines of his abdominal definition.

He gasped, hating himself for it, when Fai grasped his erection, cool fingers closing around his burning flesh.

Beside him, Fai's voice floated up to him in a timid squeak.

"You could kill someone, you know?"

"Huh?" The capability for rational thought had left him; he pressed his hips forward into Fai's grip, feeling himself slide along his fingers, desperate for release. Instinct filled him with the overwhelming urge to grab the man, throw him onto the mattress, and fuck him until stars exploded behind his eyes. _We can't – there's no way I could ever do that… _Kurogane fought against it, shying away from his touch and yearning for it until he was backed against the wall, pillows crushed beneath his shoulders. Fai's lips were pressed against his, his hand stroking him below, when an idea grabbed him, powerful and tantalizing.

He broke off the kiss, thankful for the dark. Fai wouldn't be able to see how embarrassed he was. Words mumbled out of his mouth, indiscernible from one another.

"What?"

Kurogane reached for him, lacing his fingers through Fai's hair. "Would you go down on me?"

"Oh." There was something hesitant about that one little word. _He's had to have done this before, this is the kind of thing people like him do… _When Fai spoke again, Kurogane's heart leapt with anticipation. "Okay. Yes."

Kurogane's head gave an audible _'thump' _against the wall. Groaning, he let his hands slide down through Fai's hair, twisting, grasping it, pushing him downward.

"Oh _fuck _–" He managed, Fai's tongue sliding over the tip.

"_Ssh!_"

He groaned, thrusting up into that warm mouth whose tongue had found him, hardened and yearning, sliding up the length, over the head. He gripped him harder, pushing him down even as his hips moved him higher, reveling in that warmth and wetness.

Fai reached up and grasped him, gripping the base as he worked in the dark, struggling up to breathe.

"Fuck," Kurogane gasped. "Don't – stop –"

Fai's words escaped between his panting. "I'm not – just don't shove me down, I'll choke – you're huge –"

Kurogane shoved him back down, eager to get him to _shut up _and go back to sucking him off. He'd never experienced this before, never felt the delicate sensation of a tongue sliding under the head, of teeth gently raking against the skin, of that incredible moisture that made everything slide and flow…

In the dark, reality caught up with him: _Fai is giving you head. A man…is…_ But it didn't matter if a man or a woman did _this, _he thought, desperately, because this wasn't sex, and this didn't count – couldn't possibly count… He tried to imagine Fai was a woman, that a woman was below him, crouched on his bed in the dark, nails digging into his thighs, massaging his balls as he took his length into him…but no, it wasn't a woman, _it's Fai, Fai's doing this…_ His grip tightened, his back arching. He pushed forward again, thrusting up, gasping as he came.

Fai made a noise of surprise, like a bird chirping; Kurogane collapsed back onto the bed as the spasms vibrated through his body, fingers stretching out through blonde hair as Fai lifted himself away, covering his mouth with his hand.

"…mmrf…."

Two red eyes opened. "Huh?"

Fai swallowed, his body tensing with the effort. "Water."

"Oh." He leaned over the bed, feeling around on the carpet. He was lucky; a half-full glass of water still sat on the floor from the morning. He grabbed it, passing it to him. Fai drank it down, pausing only for air.

"…Did you…did you swallow…?" He felt suddenly guilty without knowing why. _You didn't tell him you were cuming…you're supposed to do that. _He wasn't sure how he knew that; maybe he'd heard guys talk about it in the locker room, but suddenly the thought struck him and wouldn't leave him.

"Well, yea…don't worry about it." Fai leaned over him, putting the glass back down on the carpet. Kurogane was suddenly aware of how very close he was; it was stupid, really. The guy had just been giving him head, and now he was nervous because he was hovering over him, sighing, falling down on the bed next to him…

He tried not to move, suddenly feeling self conscious and awkward. The tension was draining from his body, but a new anxiety was moving in to fill it. They weren't kissing on the couch anymore, fumbling in the dark. They were done, and now Fai's head was on his chest, his long legs propped up.

He sensed Kurogane's stress.

"…Did I…do something wrong?"

"No." He tried to sound relaxed, but his mind was racing. _There's a guy in your bed…lying next to you…_

"…Is everything okay…?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" He knew how defensive it sounded even as he said it. Fai was aware of it; Kurogane felt him shift next to him, uncomfortable.

"Well…I guess…I should go to my room…before Syaoran gets home…?"

"Yes." It came out in a sigh of relief. He was suddenly aware of how rigid Fai had grown; he couldn't see his expression in the dark, but he could imagine it: _hurt_. "I mean, no," he tried. Fai was sitting up now, pushing himself away. Kurogane grabbed his arm a little too forcefully, pulling him back. At least, he thought he was pulling him back; his strength turned it into a yank. Fai toppled forward onto his chest.

Kurogane let his arm fall on top of him. "Stay," he managed.

Fai hesitated, then relaxed. Kurogane's arm curled around his waist. It felt good to have him against him, but at the same time, emotion competed in him: shame fought against contentment, guilt against satisfaction. _Just forget he's a guy, people do this kind of thing in college…_

"Um…Kuro…?"

"Hm?" He was drifting off, lost in his own thoughts.

"….Do you think…maybe…?"

Fai didn't go on. Kurogane waited, expecting something – a playful nickname, a goading – but only silence, awkward and uncharacteristic, filled the void.

"_What?_"

"…Do you think you could do something for me?"

"What, you want more water?" He was half tempted to tell him to go get it himself when realization suddenly dawned on him.

He could feel Fai shake his head, his hair moving in soft waves across his bare chest. "No, that's not what I meant…"

"…I…what do you want?" He was dimly aware that he was sweating again, blood flowing too fast. "Do you…do you want me to…to go down on you?"

He knew there was something in the way that he said it that reflected his apprehensions, too much of something he was trying to keep hidden and fight against. He was terrible at hiding what he was feeling; again, Fai grew still, reacting to something unspoken that had passed through the dark between them.

"No, that's not what I was asking, but…it's okay. Forget it."

_Forget it? _He felt something stab at his pride. _I'm not some blushing, virgin girl…this is ridiculous…just do it quickly, get it done and over with it._

Fai gasped; Kurogane shoved him down on his back unceremoniously, grabbing in the dark at his boxers. He found the waistline of the material, his heart pounding, and shoved his hand under, feeling coarse hair between his fingers. Fai was squirming beneath him; Kurogane brought his left arm up and pushed him harder into the mattress, reaching for him.

_I know what a man likes, _he thought, and found himself grinning a little: Fai was hard. The satisfaction of knowing that he could sexually arouse someone, that he was desired, was immense. He couldn't see Fai's member in the darkness, but he could still appreciate it and deny how much it excited him all at the same time. He grasped it, his blood pounding; Fai yelped.

"Do you like that?"

"N-no! Your _grip…aah! _Be _gentle_!"

"Oh." He'd forgotten how strong he was again. He eased up, relaxing his fingers, and felt Fai melt under him. For a moment, he forgot to feel uncomfortable or self conscious. Instead, he felt intoxicated, in control; Fai reacted to his every movement. He pulled his hand up and felt him shiver, pressed down and heard him gasp. He worked himself up into a rhythm, grinning in the dark at all those pitiful sounds the blond could make, watching him reach up to grab his own hair, crying out in the dark –

He felt Fai cum; hot liquid poured down his hand, his body shuddering with the force of it.

Kurogane frowned, wiping it on Fai's boxers. "You didn't say you were about to cum."

An accusing, spent voice replied. "Neither did you."

"Yea, well…" Kurogane fell back onto the mattress next to him. "I was busy."

"So was I."

They were laughing suddenly, a strange mix of relief and nerves, exhaustion getting the better of them.

"Kurogane –"

"Do we have to talk about this?"

They had stopped laughing just as quickly as they had started. The silence moved between them again, uncompromising. They had whispered without needing to, scared of something intangible and nevertheless more real than anything else.

"…No."

Kurogane sighed in relief. In the dark, he breathed in Fai's scent, a musky smell of sweat, so deeply, undeniably masculine that he found it hard to believe that anyone who drank tea could smell so attractive –

The front door opened.

They both froze in the dark, listening. Syaoran's voice floated in, welcoming someone into the apartment, pointing out the living room and kitchen.

"I want you to meet my roommates," he was saying. They heard him knock on Fai's door first, then Kurogane's, their bodies rigid.

"Kurogane?"

A young woman's voice spoke up. "Their lights are off. I don't think they're home."

"I didn't think Fai was going out…he must have left the living room light on."

The two busied themselves in the kitchen; the sound of cups and plates being set down on the counter punctuated their conversation. Syaoran showed off the cake, and Sakura exclaimed how delicious it was.

"My other roommate – Fai – helped me make it."

"Fai?" Sakura asked. "Is his last name Flourite?"

"Yea, how'd you know?"

"He shares a studio with my best friend! Her name is Tomoyo."

Kurogane smirked. "Small world, huh?" In the dark, Fai hissed at him to shut up.

"Tomoyo? From Japan?" Sakura must have nodded, for Syaoran continued. "That's who Kurogane's out on a date with right now!"

Sakura's voice reflected her confusion. "…Your roommate is out on a date with Tomoyo?"

"Mm-hmm. Fai set it up."

Next to him, the blond squirmed.

"Oh…that was sort of mean of him."

"Why?"

"Tomoyo-chan doesn't like boys."

"She'd like Kurogane," he answered. Kurogane felt embarrassed again; Syaoran's voice so full of admiration, it made him sound like a little kid.

"No, I'm sure your roommate is very nice, but I mean that Tomoyo isn't attracted to boys. She likes girls."

Kurogane slowly turned in the dark; Fai was pushing away from him as quietly as he could, waving his hands as if to say _Don't say anything, or they'll know we're here!_

"…Oh…maybe Fai didn't know that?"

"Everyone knows that….but…well, maybe Fai didn't…"

Kurogane growled. "You set me up with a lesbian, you fucking _prick_…"

"Ssh!"

Syaoran changed the subject. "Follow me. I'll show you my room!" Kurogane rolled his eyes; an invitation to see his room from any other guy might have been code for fooling around, but Syaoran sounded so innocent and buoyant, he doubted he'd so much as work up the courage to kiss Sakura, let alone…

The door at the end of the hall shut. Fai finished his thoughts. "I wonder if he'll kiss her?"

"I doubt it." He sat up in the bed, sighing. "They'll hear the door open if one of us tries to leave."

"Well, let's hope neither of us has to use the bathroom."

"…Now what?"

Kurogane let his head fall wearily back into his pillows, one arm closing around Fai's wrist, pulling him down with him. "Sleep."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm vaguely aware that there's some sort of ship war between KuroFai, Fai/Chi, and Kuro/Tomoyo, but I've always been confused about it. After all, people's hearts are the same in every dimension – Ashura always loves Yasha, Sorata always loves Arashi, Subaru always loves Seishiro, Yukito always loves Touya, etc. It stands to reason, to me at least, that Chi's love is always Hideki, and Tomoyo's is always Sakura, who she loves so much she is willing to not pursue so that Sakura will be happy with Syaoran (so, for those of you who never read Cardcaptor Sakura, surprise!****) So anyways, I'm not trying to step on anyone's toes with the shippings by making Tomoyo a lesbian. After all, fan fiction is for exploring all possibilities; I'm just keeping her as she is, so please no hate or flames! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thanks for your review, M! I'm a big CLAMP fan – those CLAMP guys are just the best *swoon* I almost feel like I should apologize for taking up so much for your time, but thanks for reading all my fics! That's incredibly awesome of you. If we knew each other, I would buy you tea! Alguien – Yea, I don't think canon-Kuro would have any issues with his sexuality, but when I was thinking about **_**this **_**setting and how his character would be, I think he would (as they say, different place, different time). Thanks Slayers64! Haha, I'm glad to hear you don't mind a side of plot with your smut! Ruantesa – Yay, glad I made someone smile! There's only 10 chapters, so I'm going to post Ch. 7 today, Ch. 8 tomorrow, and Ch.s 9 and 10 on Saturday. Thank you all for reading so far! Here you go… **

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><p>They didn't talk about it.<p>

In a way, it was almost as if it had never happened. Kurogane woke up the next morning later than usual, even if Sunday was the only day he slept in, to discover himself alone in his bed. When he came out into the kitchen, Syaoran was sitting at the table, talking about his date with Sakura, and Fai was making pancakes, apron and all.

Without missing a beat, the artist looked up, grinning. "Kuro-pon, want some pancakes?"

"Sure."

And it was all perfectly, horribly normal. Fai made fun of him, Kurogane snapped at him, Syaoran blushed with embarrassment when Fai asked if he'd finally kissed Sakura ("…no," he finally got out, "Not yet.") and together they ate a late breakfast of pancakes.

Kurogane might have even thought the whole thing was a dream, if not for the empty water glass on the floor in his bedroom.

Fai began to clean up the dishes, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. Syaoran had made up his mind to bring the remaining cake over to Sakura's dorm.

"_Kiss her!"_ Fai called.

"I…okay, I will." Syaoran looked like a man who had just committed himself to skydiving without a parachute: terrified, but foolishly determined nonetheless.

"_Weeeeeeeet-woo! _That's the spirit!"

"_Don't _do that." Kurogane shot Fai an annoyed look, who only grinned more broadly and went back to cleaning the dishes.

Syaoran left; Kurogane got the Sunday paper and began reading the sports section. _Should _they talk about it? No, he didn't want to… _This is an out, _he thought suddenly. They were both going to pretend like it never happened, and by pretending, make it so. He felt strangely relieved and empty all at the same time.

"Yo!" Fai looked over his shoulder. "Can you bring me your plate?"

He got up and dumped his stuff in the sink, neither making eye contact, and moved to go back to his room. He stopped at the feeling of something tugging at him.

Fai wasn't looking at him, which was just as well; he didn't think he could quite bring himself to look at him, either, but a thin arm had reached out, grabbing the hem of his shirt. It held on, stopping him from walking away.

No, they didn't need to talk about it.

Kurogane glanced at the front door. "…How far away is Sakura's dorm?"

Fai looked down at the dishes in the sink. "No clue."

It was a risk, then. She could live in the next dorm over or all the way across campus.

Blue eyes finally lifted to look at him, their usual confidence and insincerity replaced by a new edginess and hesitancy; still, Fai smiled, a lopsided version of the grin he had pulled off so well an hour ago. It was easier to do when more people were around.

"Think he'll kiss her?" Fai asked.

Kurogane slipped his arm around his waist, pressing against him, breathing in the scent of his hair and the soapy bubbles.

"He'd fucking better," he growled.

It was harder, at first, when they weren't in the dark and had to actually face each other, when they were left alone with the rawness of their actions, but a new excitement and urgency came with it, as well.

"Your room is messy," Kurogane complained, yanking Fai's shirt up over his head.

"It's _organized _chaos," Fai had retorted.

They were kissing again, but the slow uncertainty of the previous evening had been replaced by a furious hunger. Kurogane couldn't touch enough of him, kiss enough of him at the same time; _why _oh why was it impossible to knot his hands in that blonde hair and pull his hips up into his at the same time?

Their pants moved to being tangled around their ankles to completely off, lost to the madness below on the floor. Kurogane grabbed the man's wrists, pinning his hands above his head, and began to kiss his neck, tracing his tongue up from the start of his collarbone, in the tender dip in the flesh, all the way up to his lips.

"Okay, Kuro-tan…" Fai was shivering, trapped below him. "If you…if you uh…" There was something _unspeakably _satisfying at putting Fai at a loss for words. "…if you were trying to get me aroused, um…"

Kurogane bit down on his shoulder and felt him yelp and jerk against him. An idea had occurred to him – a mean, terrible, _cruel_ idea – and the slow grin of a predator spread across his face.

Fai saw his expression and almost regretted every pet name he'd ever called him.

"I'll bet I can make you cum without touching you," Kurogane murmured into his ear.

A stupid smile spread below him. "But you're touching me now… _Kuro-chi_."

"I mean, _here_," and he brought his knee up between Fai's legs, watching his expression change.

"Now, Kuro, let's play nice –"

Kurogane wasn't interested in playing nice; he was interested in payback, in watching Fai wreathe beneath him as he focused his attention on everywhere except the one place that yearned for his touch the most. Fai had tried to plead his case for the first few minutes, struggling ineffectually against a man who had more than sixty pounds of sheer muscle mass on him, and finally given up. His eyes were glazed over now, his body quivering as Kurogane traced his nipple in lazy circles, biting at him occasionally just to see his eyes flash, hear him gasp. When Fai had finally begun to whimper in earnest, pushing himself up against him with an aching need, Kurogane lost himself to his own game. He let go of his wrists, grabbed Fai's member and listened to the sound of that ragged breathing above him, and began stroking him.

Fai came in moments, crying out with a release that had built up to the brink of agony. No sooner had his body finished spasming with the force of it did Kurogane find himself being pushed down onto his back.

Fai climbed on top of him, glaring at him pointedly. "I'm not strong enough to do that to you – and you know it." Thin arms crossed over his chest in defiance. "So, scout's honor: promise to hold still."

"Hold still?" He grinned wickedly. "Why?"

"Because it's your turn." Fai poked at his chest. He was so cute, blue eyes shining with indignation, still clouded over with lust, his hair rumpled and damp with sweat.

Kurogane settled back, eager to enjoy himself.

* * *

><p>They never talked about it; it was as if an unspoken contract had been drawn up between them that they had both agreed to without discussing the details, but still, there were rules and clauses all the same: never when Syaoran was home. Never when Syaoran <em>might <em>be coming home. Never in the kitchen or living room. With a bit of disappointment on Kurogane's end, another rule had come into place: never in the art studio.

But most of all, never to talk about it.

It was different when they were together, in the act – then, and only in those moments, could they at least acknowledge what was going on. The first time he had digitally penetrated Fai with a shaking hand, after two weeks of kissing and messing around, Kurogane had at least had the decency, as Fai gasped and bit down into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, to ask in a raw, strained voice, "Is it okay if I do that?"

"Yea," Fai had breathed, his naked body tense beneath Kurogane's sheets, "…Okay. Just…careful."

It had been fun in the nights and, more often than not, early mornings, but Kurogane had begun to wonder what it was all leading up to. He knew, in the back of his mind, what he really wanted but was somehow too scared to face it, because beyond the unspoken rules they had made for themselves, Kurogane had made personal rules too, boundaries he had erected in his mind that he had decided not to cross: never to go down on Fai. Never to let Fai penetrate him, or touch him there in that way. _Those _things, he reasoned, would somehow tilt the scale in a direction he didn't want to go in, because while Fai was gay (or, so he had decided, because that was how these things worked, he reasoned), he was _not_, and as long as _he _was the one doing the actual sex…well, that didn't count, either.

They were in Fai's bedroom on a quiet afternoon at the end of February. They knew Syaoran's course schedule better than their own, and right about now, Syaoran was sitting in a lecture hall next to his _official _girlfriend. Kurogane wanted to meet Sakura and thank her: she took up so blessed _much _of Syaoran's time.

"Ah – _stop!_"

Fai wrenched away from him, his face screwed up in discomfort. "That _hurt_," he complained.

They had been kissing, hands exploring each other's body, when a sudden impatience had seized him so fiercely he had forgotten himself for a moment. Kurogane had reached down and tried to pierce him with three fingers, without any sort of moisture or consideration, and found a very unhappy art major shying away from him, looking suddenly nervous.

Neither one of them knew quite what to say. Finally, Fai gave a weak, nervous smile.

"I figured you'd want to do that eventually," he managed.

"Yea?" It was suddenly difficult to look at him. It was easy to kiss him, stroke him off: just _looking _at him sometimes was the hardest thing to do…besides talking.

"…Yea. You've been doing that a lot lately."

'That' was nameless, but they both knew what he was referring to. That was another unspoken rule: if they _had _to talk about things, to do so as vaguely and quickly as possible.

Fai was waiting for him to say something. He shifted uncomfortably.

"…Can we?"

Fai knew what he was asking, that much was clear by the way his eyes had widened suddenly, the blood draining from his face. He could feel Fai looking at him, thinking. He didn't know what he was expecting – well, fine, he was expecting a yes, but there were thoughts unreadable passing through that gaze, and Fai was suddenly tugging the comforter up discreetly over himself, as if embarrassed by his own nakedness, looking at him strangely. A pair of lean arms came up, wrapping around his own body.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"You don't _know_?" He knew it was the wrong reaction the moment the words, annoyed and short, came out.

Fai looked at him, his eyes suddenly cold and flashing, and said more forcefully, "No, Kuro-tan, I don't _know_."

"Don't call me that," he snapped. He was sitting up suddenly, angry. Why was this some sort of big deal to him? _Why doesn't he want to have sex? What the hell else would be doing this for? _"Why not?"

"Why _not_?" Fai was staring at him as if he couldn't quite believe Kurogane was angry. "Because I said 'I don't know.' Just because _you _want to fuck me doesn't mean I'm ready to have sex with you."

Naming the act suddenly made him want to get out of there, to leave the room, to yell and curse at Fai.

"I'll bet you fucked your old roommate," he snapped. "So why not me?"

If he had thought he had said the wrong thing before, he knew he'd fucked everything up royally now. Fai's eyes narrowed, glaring at him with an icy rage. One arm unfurled, shaking with fury, and pointed at the door.

"_Get out,_" he hissed.

It only took a moment to grab his clothes up from the floor and slam the door behind him, but it took Kurogane nearly three hours of tossing in bed that night to finally fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

><p>He had mistakenly thought – no, <em>hoped <em>– that things would be like the first time he and Fai had been intimate. He'd wake up, find Fai making breakfast, and everything would go back to normal. They wouldn't talk about it, and eventually they'd start messing around again, and all would be forgiven.

A week later, Kurogane still felt like a fool.

He'd had plenty of time to reflect on what a royal asshole he'd been, particularly because all of the time he would have normally spent with Fai in one of their beds had been filled by a silence in the apartment. Fai came home for meals and returned to his studio in the evening, sometimes sleeping there, Kurogane assumed, because he wouldn't notice the light on in his room until he'd get back from working out in the morning. Once a month Fai had to work all through the evening for the opening of a new gallery show, and so, on Friday morning, he had come home from working out to find Fai seated at the kitchen table, like so many mornings ago, his head hung groggily over a cup of tea.

"Hey," he had tried, tentatively. Fai looked up at him coolly, then wordlessly returned to staring into his tea.

Kurogane hadn't visited the studio all week. He'd discovered that the only thing worse than being called stupid names…was not being called anything at all. He used to think he would have paid Fai to shut up; now, the silence was slowly choking him.

He knew he needed to say something to Fai, to apologize, but every time he tried to arrange a moment for them to be alone, Fai would glare at him and slip away. Syaoran had noticed something was different in the apartment mid-week, but one furious glance from Kurogane had stopped him from speaking right as he was about to ask about it. It was Wednesday when Syaoran had looked at him, almost with pity, and padded silently down the hallway to his room and his studies.

Now it was Friday, and Fai was sleeping; evidently he wasn't going into the studio today, as he had gone into his room. The muffled sound of a body hitting the mattress told him he didn't plan on emerging from his room any time soon. Well, he could go in there and wake him up…_sure, he's not angry enough already, go wake him up. _Kurogane wanted to kick something. Plus, Syaoran was still sleeping – if things got heated, he might hear…

An idea occurred to him, one desperate enough that he showered quickly and hurried out the door before he had time to talk himself out of it.

"I was wondering when I was going to see you," Tomoyo said as he walked into the studio. The carpet fluttered shut behind him. "You've been away all week." She swiveled in her chair to smile at him, but it faltered; he gazed back, troubled, and said nothing.

"Oh, I see. Why don't you sit down…"

The studio looked exactly the same as it had a week ago, the last time he visited; that was odd. It was constantly in a whirling mess of movement, but now stasis, unnatural, seemed to have settled over it. It should have changed – some new art project should have exploded behind those sheet-walls, what with Fai spending all his time there, but no: nothing new had been produced.

"He hasn't done anything." Tomoyo followed his gaze it swept around the sub-studio. "He hasn't worked on anything all week. He's just come and sat, or slept. He did step on a paint tube, so that might count, though…" She considered this for a moment, then turned her attention fully to him, setting her work down. Two small hands folded neatly in her lap. "You're fighting about something, aren't you?"

"Yea."

"I won't ask about what," she said; some of the tension went out of his shoulders. "It's not my business. Was it your fault or his?"

"Both." He tried to uncross his arms, to grit his teeth a little less. "_Mine,_" he admitted.

"I'm sure it was at least a _little_ bit of both," she tried in her gentle way, but Kurogane only snorted with derision. "Did you apologize?"

"No."

"Do you want to?"

He smoldered at the ground. "Yes. But he won't let me. He's avoiding me."

"He's been avoiding you for a long time, though."

"It's been a week –"

"That's not what I meant."

Kurogane glanced up at her; she was so little, but she was looking at him as though _he_ were some sort of child. Maybe that's what he looked like, seated there on the ground in the middle of discarded art projects, looking up at the girl on her chair. He doubted Tomoyo had the capacity to judge someone; her gaze was too warm and kind, but still…she smiled at him as if he were simple.

"Kurogane-san, may I say something that might offend you?"

He snorted a little at that; Tomoyo couldn't offend anyone. "You can try."

She nodded. "Fai-kun is my friend…and so are you. I don't like to see my friends upset."

"I'm not upset –" He stopped suddenly, angry at himself. _Of course you're upset. That's why you're here talking to her, instead of at home, dealing with the silence._

She smiled at him in her knowing way. "Sometimes we hurt each other with our words, and then words aren't enough to help us heal. That's when actions are needed. I think maybe you haven't apologized to Fai-kun because you know that it won't be enough."

"…Is that what was supposed to offend me?"

"Sometimes people are offended by the truth."

_God damn her. _"Tomoyo…" He stood up. "You're too fucking smart for this costume stuff." _Thank you, _it meant.

"I like costumes." _Your welcome, _her smile said. "What will you do now?"

"I have no idea." He sighed. How did people work through a lover's quarrel? _Lovers? _Was that even what they were? _Maybe, _he conceded. Just maybe they were lovers.

"Well, patience is a virtue." Tomoyo gave him a strange look before returning to her sewing, and for an eerie moment, he had the nagging suspicion that she knew far more than she let on.

* * *

><p>Fai avoided him again on Saturday. Kurogane wasn't supposed to work out on Sunday; he was supposed to rest and not wear out his muscles, but anything was better than staying home in that maddening apartment for another day.<p>

Kurogane stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowing.

The door to his room was ajar.

He shut the front door quietly, fists curling into tight balls. The door was only open by a few inches, but he had shut it before he left. He _always _shut his door.

_So he won't talk to me and now he's going through_ _my fucking room… _He had half a mind to bust down Fai's door and yell at him, but no – he'd get the evidence, first. Kurogane threw the door open, but nothing greeted it him. Save for his belongings, it was empty.

_Maybe he left a note? A piece of paper with 'fuck off' on it or something… _No, nothing had been disturbed. Everything was exactly as he had left it.

So maybe the suction created by shutting another door in the house had opened his, he thought as he showered, still annoyed. After all, he had glanced down the hallway and noticed that Syaoran's door was open a little bit, too. The dorm doors weren't exactly weighted; you could nudge a closed door with your foot and it would pop open. He was just beginning to forget about it when he wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into his bedroom.

He threw the towel on the ground and climbed into bed, naked and exhausted. The sheets felt cool against his skin, soft and furry…

Furry and moving.

He was out of the bed, ripping back the sheets before he could process what had just brushed against his leg. Two beady, red eyes stared up at him from the bed, quivering.

"_What in the FUCK!" _

Footsteps came running down the hall at the sound of his roar. Syaoran threw open the door, panting.

"Kurogane! I – oh _no…_"

He grabbed the towel up from the floor and wrapped it around himself hastily, staring at the bed.

A tiny albino rabbit, the smallest he had ever seen, was sitting in a little heap of fur in the middle of his bed, its white nose bobbing up and down. Furious, he walked over to it and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck, hoisting it into the air.

He turned to Syaoran in a rage.

"What the _fuck _is this?"

"It's….it's a rabbit…"

"Is it _yours_?"

"No…" Syaoran was walking backwards now; Kurogane advanced on him until they were both in the living room, the rabbit hovering in the air between them.

Fai's door opened; two tired blue eyes widened, yanked out of sleep.

"_Mokona!_" He scrambled into the living room, reaching for the rabbit. Kurogane held it higher and away, glaring at him.

"So it's _yours_?" Somehow, he should have known. "Is this your idea of a fucking prank?"

"Fai, I'm sorry," Syaoran was trying to explain, "I was studying, she must have gotten out of her cage."

Fai stood there and felt the force of Kurogane's fury.

"Why was there a fucking _rabbit _in my _bed?_"

"It's a _dwarf _rabbit," he said quietly. "And she's _mine. _I got her yesterday. She's not a prank – she's my pet. Can I _please _have her back?"

He tossed the rabbit at him; Fai caught the poor creature, cradling the little fuzzball in his arms.

"No pets." They hadn't spoken in a week, and now they were finally facing each other again – and fighting. "Pets aren't allowed in the dorms. Get rid of it."

"Pets are allowed in the apartment-style dorms if all of the residents agree to it," Syaoran offered. "I already signed the form."

Kurogane turned to stare at him, gritting his teeth. "And you think I'm going to _agree _to it? I hate animals. Why wasn't it in its cage?"

"Dwarf rabbits are like cats. She has a litter box, over there, behind the couch." Fai pointed. "She only _sleeps_ in a cage."

"You're telling me that filthy animal hops and shits all over the apartment, and you want me to agree to living with it?"

"Her _name _isMokona," Fai began.

"Her name is 'Adopt Me, Because I'm Not Staying Here,'" Kurogane corrected.

With a pointed glare, Fai spun on his heel. "I knew you'd say no," he snapped, and slammed his bedroom door behind him.

Kurogane rounded on Syaoran. "And what the hell is the matter with you? Why would you let him get a pet? Are you fucked in the head?"

Syaoran shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry…it's just, he seemed really depressed all week, and he finally seemed excited about something…"

Kurogane shut his mouth with an audible snap. He stood there, tensing and fuming, until finally speaking in a low snarl.

"And _why _was it in _your _room?"

"Fai didn't have room for the cage," he said. "Because of all the stuff on his floor…"

He grabbed Syaoran by the collar and dragged him down the hall, shoving him into his room. "Give me the fucking cage," he snapped, "And don't say anything to Fai until he asks you about it."

* * *

><p>He knew the knock would have to come eventually. At quarter to midnight, Kurogane finally heard a soft tapping on his door.<p>

"Come in."

Fai opened the door and stepped in. He held the rabbit in one hand, pointing at the cage on Kurogane's bedroom floor with the other. "Syaoran said you have that."

"Shut the door."

He did so sullenly, still holding the rabbit. Kurogane glanced at the animal and tried his best to keep as much of his distaste for it out of his expression as he could.

"You got the paperwork?"

"Paperwork?" Fai stared at him. "For what?"

He glared back, sullen. "To say I'm okay with it. The _thing_."

"It's a _rabbit._" But Fai's retort was less angry than surprised. "…You're okay with it?"

"I'm not thrilled about it," he muttered.

Fai stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "…Can she stay in your room tonight? Syaoran went to sleep, and there's no room –"

"On your floor. Yea. Give it to me –" He moved to take it; Fai held it out of arms reach, frowning.

"_Don't _grab her by the neck. Hold out your hand."

Fai placed the rabbit in the palm of his hand. Kurogane looked down at the white puffball and indulged in the vivid fantasy of crushing it to death. It was so small, with long white ears and bright, red eyes, like two little jewels. It looked up at him and waggled its nose affectionately.

"Gross..."

"What was that?" Fai asked him.

"Nothing," he snapped, sticking it in its cage. He stood back up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I guess I should let it out when I get up in the morning?"

"Yes. Just shut your door when you leave, it won't go in there again, I promise. You might find some lettuce around the apartment, just ignore it, and I'll clean out the litter box –"

"Fai."

Fai looked at him for a moment, as if to go on, then fell silent, staring at the floor.

"Thanks for letting me keep the rabbit," he finally managed.

"Yea." It was the best he could offer; he felt so embarrassed all of a sudden. "Why'd you go and get a pet, anyways?"

His reply was hardly above a whisper, but Kurogane heard it all the same.

"…I was getting lonely."

There was so much he wanted to say then, hadn't been able to say in a week. _Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you, I shouldn't have pressured you, I shouldn't have lost my temper, because that was wrong of me, _he wanted to tell him, but all that came out was "You know I'm a fucking asshole, right?"

Fai blinked at him. "Is that your way of saying sorry?"

"No, my way of saying sorry is letting you keep that _thing…_I mean, the rabbit." _Fuck, what was its name? Something dumb…_ "Mokona. Which is a stupid name," he grumbled.

Fai laughed. "So's 'Kurogane.' It's the sort of name a ninja would have. Kuro-tan is much better." It was such a relief to hear him laughing that Kurogane hadn't realized what he was doing until he was pushing Fai up against his bedroom door, kissing him.

He broke away just as suddenly, furious with himself.

"Sorry – that was…" He stopped; the best explanation he had was 'desperate.'

Fai smiled in a small, shy sort of way.

"Syaoran's home," he said. _I'm glad we're done fighting, _it was as if he was saying, _but we shouldn't._

"Yea." _No, we shouldn't, _he agreed.

"…But then…he's probably asleep…" Fai shifted on his feet, glancing at the door.

Kurogane crossed the space between them in a single stride, turned the light off, and pushed Fai down into his bed.

"Definitely asleep," he agreed.

They didn't fight to get their clothes off or kiss each other with restless, heated need. Everything they did was slow, as if they had all the time in the world. He spent ten minutes alone just lifting his fingers through Fai's hair; it was getting long, and he never got tired of the quiet, almost imperceptible sound of the threads sifting through his fingers. Eventually their clothes came off, in no rush or order, and they lay there kissing, struggling to breathe. It was amazing what a week could do: it was like discovering his lips all over again. He brushed his thumb across them, tilting Fai's head back to meet his, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth and trying, somehow, to keep breathing at the same time. _Lovers, _he decided. _Sure. Why not._

"Lie on your back."

"Eh?" Fai twisted under him, confused. Kurogane had moved on top of him, his hips close to his own. "Wait." There was a sudden note of panic in his voice. "We're not –"

"No, we're not." Kurogane kissed him again, sliding his tongue over his lips. He moved lower, kissing the tender flesh under his jaw, his neck, his chest, until Fai, hardly believing what was happening, stopped him.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting annoyed." Well, that wasn't true; he had to grin a little at the look of utter disbelief on Fai's face. "Lie on your back. Relax."

"You don't have to."

Kurogane didn't understand what was going on; _why is he making this so goddamn difficult? _Fai was pushing away from him, uncomfortable. He frowned and sat up.

"I'm trying to –"

"I know what you're trying to do. I'm telling you, you don't have to." Fai was still trying to sit up, but two strong arms had a firm, insistent grip on his legs. "I don't want you to do something you don't want to do."

He stared back, surprised. "What would make you think I don't want to?"

Fai smiled a little, his expression caught between his fake and real smile, sad and foolish. "You've never done that before…."

"Yea, well," he said, and gave him a good yank. Fai fell backward with a squawk. "There's gotta be a first for everything."

Fai always surprised him; _he _was the one who was nervous, but it was Fai's hands that were shaking as they reached for him, tentatively sliding through his hair, the nails scratching along the scalp. Jolts of electricity shivered down his spine. Fai had done this for him at least a dozen times; his mind raced, trying to think of the best way to go about it. Slowly, he supposed.

He licked Fai's member tentatively and ended up having to grab the blond's waist, holding him firmly in place. He smirked; Fai was always so sensitive. He licked it again, slower, and listened to the tortured moan above him.

It was a bit disappointing, really; his skin tasted…well, just like his skin everywhere else, so why had he been avoiding doing this for so long, exactly? He decided not to think about it, taking Fai in his mouth. No, this required concentration, as evidenced by Fai's decidedly _unpleased _yelp. His teeth had nicked him a little less than gently.

Kurogane firmly grasped him at his base, easing up as he worked with his mouth, feeling fingers curling in desperation to grip at hair too short to hold on to. Fai finally gave up, his hands falling to his sides, clutching the sheets. Kurogane had discovered by accident that if he stopped for just a second to catch his breath and then slide back down his entire length, Fai would exhale all the air in his body and then gasp it all back in as came back up to the head, flicking his tongue across the tip. The truth was that it was bothersome work, the position awkward, and Kurogane was mediocre, at best…but the truth was also that he was a quick learner with a dark streak a mile wide.

"Why – why are you slowing – don't be so _mean, _Kuro-rin –"

"_You_," he swore, caressing him, nipping at his inner thigh, his eyes flashing, "_Shut up._"

That was the goal, then: make Fai speechless. He twisted his hand up along the shaft as he sucked on the head, feeling Fai attempt buck pitifully up into him to no avail: his other arm kept his hips pressed mercilessly down into the bed, preventing him from further depth. _I'm going to make you wait for it, you blonde bastard, _he thought, and controlled a grin that would have sent teeth digging into the tender flesh. The angel of his better nature caught up with him; he released his hold and let his mouth press further down, until he had reached the very beginning of his body and his throat was constricting with effort.

"You – are – _mean!_"

"I told you to _shut up._"

He had come back up completely, neither sucking or stroking, and returned to holding him down against the bed. His other hand grasped the top of his member; he now moved his thumb in slow, lazy circles over the head, sliding under the tip, up over the wet flesh, across the slit.

"Oh, _fuck you, _Kurogane." Fai was pleading with him now; he had melted into a quivering mess of agony. "_Please._"

"Only because you said my name right." He let go, grabbing both his hips with his arms, and held him pinned, working with just his mouth. Every time he came up, he let his tongue drag along the length first, wrapping around it as he moved faster, feeling his neck burn with the effort to keep up the pace, keep _going, _to fall into a rhythm and sustain it until a weak, strained voice was telling him to _stop –_

He pulled away, grabbing his cock for a few final, frenzied strokes, and then Fai was crying out in earnest, cuming across his chest.

Kurogane let him go, settling back on the bed, satisfied. No quip, no jeer or joke came from the other end of the bed. No, instead, Fai lay vanquished, struggling just to breathe and readjust to a world that wouldn't stop spinning. He stared at his crumpled figure and felt an odd tightness in his chest, something he'd never felt before, and for a brief, panicked moment he thought he was having a heart attack. The feeling went as quickly as it had come; he ignored it, watching the aftershocks of shivers go pulsing through Fai's body, and discovered that the satisfaction he felt had nothing to do with how well (or how poorly) he had given Fai head. It was something far less tangible or quantifiable, something abstract and new.

It was something that made him chuckle and lie down, dragging the artist up to his chest until he had him in both of his arms.

A tired, spent voice reached his ears. "I hope Mokona didn't see us."

He rolled his eyes. "It's a rabbit. Who cares?"

"She'_s _a _dwarf _rabbit. And she's very impressionable."

"You've had her for a _day_. How do you know what she is?"

It was silly; they could have kept their banter up for hours, but Fai fell silent.

"…Kurogane."

He'd almost fallen asleep. The sound of his name – not a pet name, either – jerked him back into reality. "Huh?"

"…Okay."

Sleep clouded his mind. Had they been talking about something? "Okay what?"

"…You're a big dumb puppy, Kuro-tan. You know that, right?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

It wasn't until he woke up the next morning, his bed empty, the cage open, with an albino rabbit curled up in the hollow of his arm that he understood what Fai had been talking about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thank you for all your reviews, everyone! You've single-handedly helped get me through the week. Thank goodness it's Friday… Enjoy, hope you like it! Remaining chapters will get posted tomorrow! **

Kurogane didn't like the rabbit.

For one, it was _smart. _Putting it in its cage was useless; it would nudge the latch up and hop out. If a door was closed, it would hop up to it and push, push, _push _until the weak latch finally popped out, and off it went, wherever it damned well pleased.

And wherever it damned well pleased, Kurogane discovered, was usually his bed. Or his closet. Or the bathroom.

"Why are you always in my goddamn way?" He growled at it on Wednesday. Mokona had hopped into one of his sneakers, two red eyes blinking up at him, its velvety nose bobbing up and down. He picked up the shoe and dumped the rabbit out onto the ground, resisting the urge to kick it across the room. The cage was still in his room; Fai had yet to clean up his floor, and Kurogane was beginning to suspect he wasn't going to any time soon.

He turned around to find Mokona leaping up into his bed, burying under the blanket. He snatched the sheet off the bed, glaring at the creature.

"Get the fuck out!"

It shot him what most likely passed for a reproachful look, and with a defiant shake of its tail, hopped off and out of the room.

He would have yelled at Fai about the rabbit by now, about him needing to clean his room, if he wasn't so preoccupied with other thoughts. He didn't want to risk upsetting Fai, and while he knew he didn't exactly win any award in ethics for putting up with a rabbit in return for the promise of sex, he didn't care, either. At the very least, Fai hadn't been lying about the creature being house trained, and that was a relief.

"When?" He had asked on Monday after dinner, over the sound of Syaoran doing the dishes.

"…Friday. Or Saturday." Fai reached down; Mokona slid across the kitchen tile and hopped into his hands. He shot a quick look in Syaoran's direction. "It'll depend on him."

He was in charge of getting Syaoran out of the house for one night. The easiest, permanent solution, he thought, would be to kill the boy and hide his body somewhere. He grinned wryly at his dark humor, then stopped. If he didn't get Syaoran out of the house…_fuck._

They had yet to meet Sakura. True, they'd heard her voice once, through a closed doorway in the dark, but since then Syaoran was always running out to go visit her, which could be convenient…but unreliable. He couldn't go up to Syaoran and just say, "Go take your girlfriend out to dinner and a movie. _Two _movies." That would be…suspicious. At best.

One thing might work in his favor, though: Tomoyo had told Fai that Sakura lived across from her in the dorms. It was Thursday now as he stood in the studio, watching Fai disappear through the carpet flap to go load up the kiln.

He turned to Tomoyo and spoke bluntly. "I need your help."

She was working on a long, flowing ball gown, sewing lace into the hem. She stopped and waited for him to go on.

"Are you going to see Sakura today?"

"I see her every day. Sakura-chan and I have dinner every night together."

He spoke quickly. "Have you met Syaoran?"

"Oh yes!" She beamed. "He's sweet."

"He needs to get out of the apartment." That had come out a little more bluntly than he had intended.

Tomoyo stared at him for a moment, and then a slow, _ever so slightly _devious smile graced her lips. He shoved his hands in his pockets, half embarrassed. _Christ, could I have made it any more obvious…_

"Can't you just tell Syaoran you'd like some privacy for an evening?" The sparkle in her eyes indicated that she already knew the answer, already knew he was embarrassed enough to talk to her, let _alone _Syaoran, and that she was just enjoying his sense of modesty and discomfort.

He cursed under his breath. She laughed at his scowl.

"I have plans tomorrow." His excitement dropped; not tomorrow, then. _Shit. God damn it. _"But on Saturday, you know…I think I'll host a floor party. We'll have dinner in the dorm kitchen. I could host a sleep over!" She clapped her hands together, delighted at the idea.

His heart was beating a little too fast now. Saturday. Not tomorrow, then, but Saturday…

"Do you need to check with your RA first?"

"No worries, Kurogane-san – _I'm _the RA!"

Well, that worked out then.

Kurogane's blood quickened on Friday evening when, after dinner, Syaoran pushed back from the table and offered to clean up again. "I won't be here tomorrow," he said. "Sakura's friend is hosting a floor party in the dorms."

"Tomoyo mentioned that," Fai said. "Have fun!"

Syaoran gave him a questioning look. "You're not coming?"

Kurogane resisted the sudden, overwhelming urge to pick Mokona up from the ground and chuck her at the kid's head.

"Nope!" Fai turned to him. "I've been spending too much time at the studio. Time to catch up on my studies!"

Kurogane could hardly sleep that night, his thoughts racing; he tried to find a time in his life when he'd been this nervous about something, but nothing came close. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when Mokona hopped out of her cage and onto the bed. When a soft nose pressed close against him, startling him, he had half a mind to kick it down to the ground.

"Obnoxious thing," he muttered. He scratched behind its ears with his thumb and forefinger, rolled over, and tried unsuccessfully to sleep.

* * *

><p>Saturday dawned with little fanfare. He worked out in the morning, an hour longer than he had intended to do, and came home and slept all afternoon. Syaoran's "See you later" came floating through his door at quarter to six, but he didn't get up, and Fai didn't come in.<p>

One of them would have to be the first to go to the other one, that was a given, and by the time seven o'clock came around, Kurogane had accepted that it was going to have to be him. He felt self-conscious; he didn't want Fai to know how nervous he was, or annoyed with himself for _being _nervous. _There's nothing to be nervous about, idiot, _he thought. 'Nervous' was when you were at the five-yard line, fifteen seconds left on the clock, trying to hold back an offensive rush for a winning touchdown knowing that your skull could get cracked open or stomped on in the mad stampede for the goal line. No, there was nothing to be nervous about when it came to sex.

His hands were shaking when he opened his bedroom door.

Fai was sitting on the living room floor, books and papers spread out on the coffee table. He had on his reading glasses, and when he looked up, they slid down his nose exactly as Kurogane knew they would. Mokona sat on the loveseat behind him, occupied with a large leaf of lettuce.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He stood there in front of him, hands in his pockets, unsure of what to say or do, if there was a right time or moment or signal or _something _that would make everything fall into place.

"You studying?"

"I was." Fai shut the book in front of him.

"Test next week?"

"Nope." Blonde bangs fell down in front of his glasses; _he really needs a haircut. _"Just getting caught up with some reading."

"Want to take a study break?" The words could have come out coy, seductive, inviting. Instead, they tumbled out in a jumbled mess of nerves, tinged with temper.

Fai didn't reply; he only smiled up at him. Kurogane leaned down, pulling his glasses off, and set them on the table.

They went into his room; he shut the door and wedged his sneaker under the frame so the rabbit couldn't come in. He turned around to face him, the sound of blood rushing in his ears nearly drowning out his own voice.

"So," he said.

"Well, here we are…" Fai's arms had come up around himself; Kurogane had seen him do it before. Blue eyes weren't looking at him; they were moving about the sparse room, on the floor, the bed, the ceiling – anywhere except for him.

He moved forward; Fai stepped backward involuntarily, backed up against the bedroom wall.

"Are you nervous?"

Kurogane rested his hands on Fai's hips, trying to read him.

"Who, me?" Fai grinned, wide and stupid. "No, of course not."

He lifted the artist's chin with his fingers, drawing his gaze up to meet him. When their eyes finally met, Fai cringed, shying away.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Why don't we take off our clothes?"

"_Fai._" He growled his name, low and forceful. Fai looked away.

"Yea," he whispered. "Okay. I'm nervous."

Kurogane would have laughed if he didn't feel like throwing up. _Fai _was nervous? Hell, _he _hadn't slept last night. _What's he got to be nervous about? It's not like he even has to do anything…_

"We don't have to rush." He slipped his hand under Fai's shirt, resting the warm flat of his palm against smooth, cool flesh. Fai shivered, nodding, and let him draw his shirt off his body.

Their clothes came off item-by-item; Kurogane had never had such trouble with buttons in his life. They were harder to handle with fingers that refused to stop shaking. When they finally found each other naked, under the bed sheets, he swallowed thickly and admitted, in a hushed voice, "I'm nervous too."

"You?" Fai's surprise was genuine. "What have _you _got to be nervous about?"

He kissed the column of his throat, chuckling. "I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Well, it's not like I've done this before…"

"You haven't?" They stopped and stared at one another, surprised.

Fai looked at him, shocked. "No. Why did you think I didn't want to in the first place? I thought you…" He trailed off, unsure what to say.

Kurogane gaped back. "_I _haven't done this before, either."

They stared at each other in silence, the realization that they were two blind travelers, neither able to guide the other and make the way easier, dawning on them.

"Oh." Fai's voice was weak. "Well, this should be interesting." He had sounded nervous before; now, he sounded as though he was ready to faint.

Kurogane pushed him on his back and kissed him, forcing himself to find the courage for them both. Fai was shaking, overcome by his nerves; he wouldn't let his own apprehensions get the better of him. Kurogane reached down, caressing him, when Fai broke away from him. "Do you have anything?"

"Anything?" Kurogane struggled to catch his breath, his mind swimming. "Like what?"

"Lotion. Or water. Anything."

"Oh. Yea."

"That's good."

He was so pale, sweating already, struggling to catch his breath. Kurogane held himself above him and tried to see things from Fai's perspective; well…yea, he'd be nervous, too.

"Are you afraid I'm going to hurt you?"

A wide smile, empty, answered him. "I think that's unavoidable, Kuro-tan."

"Don't do that." He held himself up on one arm and covered Fai's mouth with the other, suddenly angry. Two surprised blue eyes blinked at him. "You're nervous – fuck, _I'm_ nervous. Don't joke about it. Don't give me that look, either. I hate it. It's not you."

He pulled his hand away; the grin was gone, but his lips were trembling now, frowning. It was as though Kurogane had walked up to the foundation of a tall building and given it a good kick in its weak spot, and now the whole structure was threatening to collapse.

"I heard sex isn't great your first time," he muttered, trying to give him some sort of reassurance. Fai was biting his lip, breathing rapidly.

"…You know what _is_ great?"

"Huh?"

"A massage." He wasn't trying to joke; he looked at him, openly pleading with his eyes. "That would be great."

He'd picked up lotion the day before, shoved it under the bed. A minute later he had the stuff in his hands, starting with Fai's feet, admonishing himself not to be so rough. He had thought to start at one end of his body and work his way up to the other, sliding his hand down his calf muscles, kneading the tension out of those legs, pressing open his thighs and letting his fingers press into the tissue with just enough pressure to help him relax.

He should have known he'd get distracted; really, he had had every intention of moving up to his back and shoulders, but Fai's eyes were closed, his breathing even… Kurogane slipped one finger inside him, pressing in, and watched two thin hands grip the sheets. A second finger brought a surprised gasp; Fai back arched, pressing himself further against him.

Kurogane's breathing quickened, adrenaline rushing.

"How's that?"

He had pressed a third digit into him, observing the way Fai winced and then fought for control of his expression.

"…Fine."

"Don't lie."

"Okay." He could hear his discomfort in his voice. "N-not so great…"

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or how muscles – well, at least, how _this _muscle – worked. He had assumed either it would just work…or not.

"Fai." His throat felt so raw; he wanted that tightness and heat around a different part of his body. "I'm not sure what to do." Admitting it cost him a great deal of his pride.

"Um…" Fai twisted, he could feel, actually _feel _that muscle constrict, his vision growing blurry with desire. "Try moving your hand."

He pushed harder into him, deeper, closing his eyes, imagining it was his cock and not his fingers, and found he was shaking again with the effort to control himself. He had pulled Fai to him, hooking one of his legs under his arms, and slowly – maddeningly slowly – Fai's expression slowly changed. Before, his breathing had been the short, rapid breaths of a scared animal; now, Kurogane watched that thin chest rise and fall with a new rhythm, and Fai was moving with him, pressing down every time he pressed forward…

He withdrew carefully. Two blue eyes opened, watching him get some more lotion, then closed again.

Kurogane positioned himself above up, pressing his tip against his entrance, wrapping his arms around that lean torso. Fai shuddered into him, and for the first time, he was aware of how fragile the artist really was. He had been afraid of crushing the rabbit in his sleep; if he closed his arms too tightly, too hard, ribs would break.

"Hey." Kurogane kissed his earlobe, his voice a whisper. "You okay?"

Soft hair tickled him under his jaw; Fai had nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Kurogane pushed himself in, forgetting how to breathe. The fantasy of how good it would feel was nothing compared to how it was: hot, almost _burning, _tight and soft. He said something – what, his rational mind didn't know – exhaling with the pleasure and surprise of it.

Fai cried out in his arms, and the sharp sensation of nails digging into his back, shredding his skin, brought him back to himself. Kurogane brought his hips up, his body protesting against leaving that heat, and pressed back in, deeper. He knew he should say something – what, he didn't know – but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a jagged gasp.

A pair of thin, shaking legs wrapped around his thighs. He groaned with the pleasure of it, slowly growing used to the movement of moving back and forth, discovering that his body had possessed the hidden knowledge of an instinctual rhythm. The friction was building between them as a quiet whimpering drifted up to him; he thrust harder and felt Fai bite down on his shoulder in an effort to keep from crying out.

It lasted for a minute or two before he came, the quickest he had ever gone in his life, and collapsed down on top of Fai, letting the vibrations travel from himself into another person, feeling Fai twitching and constricting around him. He didn't want to pull out, not yet…he wanted to lay there, basking in the heat, and wait until he was hard again to start it all over, but this time make it last, and last…

"Kurogane." Fai's voice floated up to him, strained. "You're crushing me."

He grunted and rolled off of him, disappointed to lose that heat so soon.

They lay there in silence, their breathing slowing down. Kurogane propped himself up on his elbow, watching Fai lay there, eyes closed and hair strewn across his pillow. He reached out and brushed it away from his face. Blue eyes opened lazily, staring at him.

"You okay?"

"Yea."

"Did that hurt?" Red eyes flashed, demanding an honest answer. Fai shied away from his touch, scooting back on the pillow.

"Yea."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Forget it." He tried to roll away, but Kurogane caught his arm, pulling him closer. He reached down, sliding his hand down his back, his fingertips touching at his entrance. Fai grimaced.

"I'm sore," he admitted, squirming.

"You're _bleeding._"

He managed to push himself away from Kurogane, staring at the athlete. The color had drained away from his face, and his voice – always gruff, annoyed, short – was suddenly weak. Scared.

Fai winced, touching himself gingerly. "Not much," he tried, but Kurogane was staring at his fingertips. They were slick with lotion, semen, and the faintest flecks of blood. No, not much – but some.

He'd forgotten all about his pleasure from the past few minutes; so this was reality, then. Sex was giving yourself completely to someone else – beyond the body, giving your trust and faith to someone – and the result was messy, uneven, unfair.

"Kuro-pon…hey!" Fai grabbed at him; he was halfway out of the bed when he let Fai pull him back in. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell are _you _apologizing for?" His temper rose in his gut, angry. "Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you _say _something –"

"Stop." Fai sighed and sunk back down against the pillow. "It's not your fault. It's fine."

"It's not _fine _–"

"You sound like a bear." Fai rolled over, ignoring him. "I'm not upset. You shouldn't be either, Kuro-chi. It doesn't hurt much," he whispered. "I'll just sleep it off."

"_Fai –_"

Fai kicked him lazily with his foot. "Your noise is interrupting my nap, Kuro-pu."

Kurogane bit down on his tongue; he didn't think Fai was acting, but it was hard to be sure. Maybe it was a mixture of sincerity and façade; maybe it was _all _façade…or maybe he just sincerely wanted Kurogane to shut up and lay down next to him, let him sleep.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and slipped back under the covers, silent.

* * *

><p>He woke up a few hours later; the clock on his dresser told him it was nearly 9:30 in the evening. Fai was lying next to him, flat on his stomach. Kurogane wondered, as he let his hand slide down his sleek back, feeling every bump along the artist's spine, how he could go back to sleeping alone.<p>

Fai shivered; his head rolled over, tired eyes opening to look at him.

"We didn't eat dinner."

Fai's eyes were studying him; he wondered how much of the guilt he felt was in his voice, on his face.

"Pizza," Fai mumbled. "I want pizza."

"What do you want on it?"

"Pineapple."

He blanched. "That's disgusting."

"Then just cheese. My cell phone's in the kitchen."

Kurogane got up and left the room, walking naked through his apartment for the first time. No sooner had he opened the door had Mokona bounded in, shaking her tail in fury at being locked out.

Kurogane ordered a pineapple pizza.

"Mokona is so cute…" Fai was sitting up when he came in, holding the rabbit, rubbing his nose against its whiskers. "Hey!"

Kurogane picked it up by the scruff of his neck; mindful of Fai's presence, he put the rabbit down nicely on the bed. _Very _nicely.

"Pizza will be here in a half hour."

"Great! I'm starved!"

"Yea…" Kurogane reached forward, pulling him up by his wrists. "I was thinking…we should get cleaned up."

"Oh." Fai disentangled himself from the sheets, rising. "Whatever you say, Kuro-chi."

They closed the bathroom door behind them without needing to. The shower wasn't particularly large, but they pressed themselves in all the same, letting the hot water pour down them.

There was something more intimate about the shower than the bed, Kurogane decided; otherwise, why was the weird feeling in his chest back, tight and stealing away his breath, as he looked at Fai, his hair plastered to his face and neck. There was room for less than an inch between them; he had only to lift his hands to brush his damp hair out of his face, to lean down and kiss him, feeling the water run down their bodies.

"Are you okay? Really?"

Fai looked at him peculiarly, as if he couldn't quite understand Kurogane's expression, his tone of voice.

"Yes."

"_Fai._"

"_Yes_." He poked him in the chest to prove it. "I won't lie – I'm _sore_, but I'm fine. Stop pretending to be so concerned, Kuro-pu!"

"I'm not pretending." He kissed him again, ignoring that shocked, disbelieving expression below him. "And stop calling me those stupid names."

Kurogane leaned in closer, pressing Fai against the tile; slender arms reached around him, fingertips dragging down his back, hugging him close as their tongues found each other, the steam shrouding them in a fine blanket of mist.

A washcloth was slung over the shower door; he fished it down, rubbing a bar of soap into it until it was thick with bubbles. With one hand he pulled Fai's head gently back, letting the cloth slide down his neck, down him; Fai grinned, and amidst that heat and moisture, shivered. He grabbed it away from him; Kurogane let himself be pushed back against the wall as Fai slid it along his arms, tracing the contours of his body.

It was like a game between two players who each thought it was their turn; Fai would touch him, long fingers tracing his inner thighs sensually, and Kurogane would suddenly grab both his wrists, pulling his arms high above his head to kiss the base of his throat, bite his lips. It wasn't until Kurogane kneeled, taking him in his mouth, that Fai finally gave up, a satisfied grin on his face: he'd lost the battle and won the war. He knew the moment Fai was about to come; the blond's legs began to shake, then gave out completely. Kurogane pulled back and caught him under the legs as he came, gasping, the shower washing it away.

An idea occurred to him. He didn't let Fai down onto the ground; instead, he pulled him up, pressing his back against the shower.

"Wrap your legs around me."

Fai's eyes were glazed over with equal parts satisfaction and shock.

"I knew you were strong, but this is ridiculous –"

Kurogane crushed their lips together, silencing him. Fai's legs came up, wrapping around his waist; he reached down, holding him by his backside, and pressed their bodies together against the shower tile. Hot water poured down his back, their skin sliding against one another.

"…Can I?"

Suspended above the floor, Fai looked down, as if doubting sex was possible in this position, but nodded all the same.

When he pushed into Fai for the second time, the sound that escaped him was different, a deep, throaty gasp of pleasure. His legs pressed more firmly around his waist, Fai's arms encircling his neck, clutching him. He moved quicker, listening for changing in Fai's breathing, feeling him throw his head back.

"Is this good?"

Fai opened his mouth, but no sound came out; blue eyes rolled back, fingernails curling into the back of his neck.

"Fai?"

"_Shut. Up._" Hips pressed harder into his, yearning.

Kurogane broke into a grin, losing himself. Fai was moaning in his arms; he bucked up with a sudden ferocity, breaking that sound with a sudden cry of pleasure. He fought back for control, clutching that wet, arching body against his, thrusting up into it and trying to decide what was better: the tightness around his cock, or the look of surprised ecstasy on Fai's face.

"I'm going easy on you," he whispered. He thrust up sharply, shivering at the sound of that cry again. "I could go harder."

"You could _kill _me," Fai replied between gasps, clutching at him. "Give me – a break…We've got all night…"

Kurogane let his head fall backwards into the shower as he came, marveling at the feeling of cuming inside someone, of the impossible softness surrounding his member, and pulled Fai into the water with him. The strange satisfaction returned, a satisfaction he was only just beginning to understand, as he fully comprehended that Fai had never done this with anyone else, had never let anyone else claim him, cum inside him, had never crossed such a personal, intimate boundary with anyone other than him.

With possessive fulfillment, Kurogane refused to let him down, kissing him until the water turned cold.


	9. Chapter 9

They spent the better parts of March encouraging Tomoyo to encourage Sakura to keep Syaoran busy. The result was that Kurogane's hip muscles were perpetually sore (and wonderfully so).

It took longer for Fai to adjust; at first, Kurogane's sexual appetite had left him skittish, in part because, the moment Syaoran left the apartment, he was sure to pulled into one of their bedrooms, possibly the shower, and then whatever bedroom they _hadn't _started in. He didn't possess a quarter of the energy Kurogane did, which was just as fine: it meant that after Fai was spent and Kurogane wanted more, he was left with a perfectly docile artist, unable to resist his desires.

But once Fai was completely comfortable with sex, Kurogane discovered that he could be deviously mischievous. They had tried various positions in an exploration of what was most comfortable and pleasurable for both; Fai liked to climb on top of him, rake his nails down his chest, and ride him until Kurogane's vision went black. This had been wonderful until, in one particularly zealous thrust, Fai had bent his body forward, twisting his member. Kurogane hadn't been able to have sex for four days, and when they finally did, he fucked Fai hard enough to prevent them from having sex for yet another three days.

It was a miserable week for the two of them.

A new rule emerged from these lessons in patience and pain: play nice. It was hard, though; sometimes he'd forget himself, lost to the heat and the moment, and Fai's muffled cries would have a new edge to them. The sound would bring him back to himself, and he's slow and stutter an apology.

They still didn't talk about what they were doing, or what they were, or what it all meant, if anything. For a month they enjoyed each other, sometimes all evening, sometimes for a hurried half hour while Syaoran went to the store, until the first week of April arrived.

Syaoran wasn't home for dinner yet, which was unusual for a Sunday…but tempting. Kurogane knocked on Fai's door.

"Come in!"

He was lying on his stomach, a black sketch book open in front of him, colored pencils littering the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Reviewing." He looked stressed. "I've got an exhibition proposal due in a week. They pick five people from each year to do a gallery in May, and I – hey!"

He wasn't interested; he leaned down and pushed the sketchbook away, kissing him, a hunger eating at his insides.

Fai pulled back, grinning. "Syaoran should have been home an hour ago."

He nipped at his neck. "So?"

"_So, _we shouldn't, and I'm really busy, Kuro-tan…_hey!_"

He wasn't interested in excuses. He was on the bed, pencils snapping beneath him, pinning him from behind.

Fai squirmed beneath him. "Kuro-chi, I know you're in a bit of a bad spot…" He was pushing his hardness against him, toying with the back of his pants. "…But I'm _busy._"

"So get unbusy. And _stop_ calling me weird names…"

Fai pressed up against him in an effort to push him off; Kurogane chuckled throatily, amused. Fai at his best couldn't stand a chance against Kurogane at his worst. He reached up and pulled one arm behind his back, grasping the other by the wrist.

"Kuro-_pon,_" came an annoyed hiss beneath him, "I. Am. _Busy._"

"You don't look busy." He nudged his knee down, opening his legs. Below him, Fai seethed like an angry cat. "And didn't I just tell you to stop calling me names?" He drew his tongue across the back of his neck, watching his skin shiver; below him, Fai was panting with the effort to free himself like a kitten stuck between the paws of a lion.

He pulled his arm back further, twisting, so that Fai's hand was in the small of his own back. The blond yelped.

"Kuro-_tan, _Kuro-_pu, _Kuro-_getoffame!_"

He was putting up a good fight, Kurogane could appreciate. Not good enough, by any stretch of the imagination, but decent – it would be perfect if Fai spent all of his energy trying to get out from under him, so that when Kurogane finally let him go, he would be spent and pliable. "I bet I could come up with a couple of names for _you_," he growled, his tongue flicking at Fai's earlobe.

Fai jerked away from him, unamused. "'Annoyed' is a good one to start with, Kuro-_coo_."

A harsh, barking laughter erupted from him. "Cute, too."

"I'm being _serious!_"

"What did I use to call you?" His grip on Fai's wrist tightened; a brief flash of pain went through the angry blue eyes glaring up at him. "A girl." His hair was getting long enough to be girlish, that was for sure. Fai grit his teeth, displeased. "A fairy. You hated that one." He nudged his leg up more until his knee was right at the base of his spine.

Real, genuine anger blazed up at him. "_Don't _call me that again."

"Okay, how about a new pet name, since you've got so many for me?" He leaned down, his lips brushing against his ears. "How about a fa-"

He never got the word out, or maybe he did, but the sudden white, hot pain distracted him; Fai had wrenched his wrist free and punched him in the face.

Kurogane fell back, cursing; the blow had caught him right in the temple.

Fai was standing up, two shaking arms ending in tight, balled fists. As his vision came back to him, Kurogane saw rage, palpable and electric, in the eyes that were glaring at him.

"Don't you _ever,_" he hissed. "Don't you _ever _call me that _again._"

_So now he's going to get pissy at me again? _Fine, it would be like last time – they wouldn't talk for a week, Fai might go out and get another pet (maybe a black rabbit this time) and then they'd fuck and make up. Kurogane clutched at his head, indignation stinging him. If he'd punched Fai to the temple, Fai would be in the hospital with a concussion. _This is bullshit. _"Why not?" He bristled defensively, glaring back at him. "That's what you are."

Yes, he'd seen that steely, icy glare before, but never quite like this. "That's what _I _am?" Disbelief flashed across his face. "That's what _you _are, too."

"_Me?_" He sneered. "I'm not gay."

Fai stood, frozen and staring, as if he had spoken another language. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and laughed.

Now his anger came swift and hot. He stood up and fought back the urge to punch Fai in the head, because, even in his rage, he knew in the back of his mind that he wasn't being vain when he thought a good hit would send Fai to the hospital. He was being realistic.

"No, I'm _not,_" he growled.

Fai stopped laughing; a nasty smirk had appeared. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

"It's the truth."

"The _truth? _You don't think sleeping with another guy makes you gay? Or at the very least, since you want to define it, bisexual?"

"It doesn't."

Fai glared at him coolly. "You're kidding me, right, Kuro-tan?"

It was getting harder not to punch him. "_I'm _not the one getting fucked," he snapped.

He didn't need to strike Fai to hurt him. Fai sucked in his breath as if he'd been slapped, the blood draining away from his face. "You're serious," he said. He stumbled backwards, grasping at his desk chair for support. "You're actually _serious_." He was blinking rapidly, as if he was just seeing Kurogane for the first time and was finding it hard to focus on him. "You…did you think I was gay?"

"_Think_?" He snorted. "Of course you are. Why else would you have kissed me?"

"Why else would _I _have kissed _you_?" And now he really was holding onto the chair to steady himself, his voice as shaky as his legs. "You're serious," he repeated again, dazed, but he was slowly coming back to himself – and he was angry. He pushed himself back to his feet, and tears, furious and unshed, collected at the edges of his eyes. "I never had sex with anyone before you."

Kurogane glared back at him. "So? Neither did I. That doesn't mean –"

Fai cut him off, his voice growing louder, stronger. "I never so much as _kissed _anyone before you. I never dated anyone. I never so much as held any one's _hand_. And when I…" His voice was shaking now, but not from shock: fury, harsh and biting, stabbed at his throat. "…When I kissed you _back – _because you kissed me _first _– I didn't think, 'Will this make me _gay._" The tears that had built up in the corners finally freed themselves, slipping through his eyelashes. "I thought, 'Will this make me _happy?_'"

Maybe Fai moved too fast, or maybe Kurogane was too stunned to try to stop him. Either way, he pushed past him, and the front door slammed shut behind him.

He didn't know how long he stood there for; seconds, maybe. Hours, it felt like. Eventually, Syaoran's voice came from behind him.

"Kurogane…?"

He turned as if in a dream, confused; he hadn't heard the door open.

Syaoran stood in the doorway of Fai's room, Mokona in one hand, a cup of coffee – black – in the other. He held it out. Kurogane took it and numbly walked into the living room, sitting on the couch.

"I'm sorry," Syaoran offered. Mokona hopped down from his hand, skittered across the floor, and hopped up into his lap. He looked down at its red eyes, still not entirely with himself.

"Did you see…?"

"I got home and saw you fighting. It looked like Fai had just hit you."

_So he heard all of it…Fai did say he was supposed to be home soon…_ he could have laughed with bitterness. Of course. In all that yelling, neither of them had heard the front door open. Not that it would have mattered, anyways.

Syaoran came and sat down on the other sofa. Kurogane stared into his coffee.

"How long have you known…?"

"Since Valentine's Day."

"_Valentine's Day?_"

Syaoran shrugged. "The living room light was on."

Kurogane was half surprised he still had it in him to be shocked. "And _that _made you think –"

"Fai wasn't going out, and neither of you have ever left the living room light on."

Kurogane stared at him. All this time he had thought Syaoran was a dumb freshman, too nervous to kiss a girl he liked, ask her out…but no, he reflected. It had taken him a long time, but Syaoran _had _kissed her, _had _asked her out. He stared back at the boy with a slow, new understanding, looking into that unwavering, perceptive gaze that was looking back at him with what was unmistakably, _sickeningly_, pity.

"Why didn't you say something?"

Syaoran's brow furrowed. "Why would I say anything?"

"Because…we…" Why _would _he say anything, though? When Syaoran started dating Sakura, it wasn't as if they had any entitlement to know. They'd gone through all that trouble to keep their business from Syaoran, so that he wouldn't know and be uncomfortable –

The numbness of the realization spread through him. He put the coffee down, afraid he might drop it. The only person uncomfortable had been himself.

Syaoran frowned. He spread his hands open, and as if sensing she was needed, Mokona bounced back onto the floor, bounding up into his palms. "Will you tell me why Fai was so upset?"

After more than a month of deception, Kurogane felt like he owed it to him. In a quiet, guilty voice, he told him what he said, and the hard, disappointed look Syaoran gave him was somehow worse than all of his own guilt combined.

"I need to apologize." He knew it to be true, and knew also that it wouldn't work. He could talk to Tomoyo, buy him another rabbit, but nothing would work. He had burned the bridge he had crossed, and now there was no way back to the other side.

"I think you should know something first." Syaoran glanced at Kurogane's bedroom door. "You once asked me who used to live there. I lied to you…and you knew I was lying."

Damn it all, had he really been so lost in his own business that he had never noticed how smart Syaoran really was? Smart…and respectful. Courteous, even when he had been rude to the kid. Kurogane felt like an ass.

"I figured, it Fai didn't tell you, then I shouldn't."

"That's what Tomoyo said."

"Did Fai ever tell you?"

"No. I never asked. We had a fight…smaller, stupid…and I said something then, too. I figured I wouldn't bring it up." _Because you wanted to get laid. You didn't yell about the rabbit, you didn't ask about the room. You're a fucking prick. _

"He'll probably hate me for telling you." Syaoran sighed. "Do you remember when you first moved in? The very first day?" Kurogane grunted. "There was a picture on the fridge. Well, the side of the fridge. It wouldn't have been there otherwise, but we didn't see it…so it was there."

"It was Fai."

"No." Syaoran studied Kurogane's expression. "No, it wasn't. It was his brother. Fai is…was…an identical twin. The person in the picture was named Yui."

Kurogane tried to grasp it, understand it. Something was making sense, falling into place, but it was too big. Syaoran continued, his voice quiet. "He used to do all of the cooking during the week – he loved it. I'd cook on Saturdays, and Fai would cook on Sundays. He was great at baking. We used to tell him he should quit art, go to culinary school…"

"The studio." Why was it so cold, suddenly? "He shared Fai's studio."

Syaoran nodded. "They were both art majors. People used to say their art was the only way to tell them apart. Fai's is…busy. Yui was very clean and organized."

"Was." His stomach felt sick. "You keep saying _was_."

Syaoran cringed. "Yui…got into a relationship with someone. Someone who ended up hurting him." He could tell by his hesitancy that Syaoran knew far more than he was saying, but the details – old now – didn't matter anymore, or weren't his place to say. "He didn't take it well. He became depressed, and at the end of the semester, right after classes ended…" Syaoran looked away, unable to meet the red eyes that were burning into him. "…He went up to the library. They said he used the emergency stairwell to go up to the roof, and…he jumped."

_Maybe he survived, maybe he's in a hospital somewhere, or a pysch ward…_but no. There was a finality in the way that Syaoran spoke that told him that Yui, a person he had never met but still looked at every day in the living replica of his brother, was gone.

"It was in the newspaper, when we got back from break." Syaoran sighed. Mokona hopped down from his lap.

He remembered how Fai had taken the newspaper the first two days when he got back from break. He'd thought he'd been using it for his art projects, but no… How desperate must Fai have been to grab it, cover it with paint, when he could have gotten a paper from anywhere else on campus? He might have already read it somewhere else, or heard about it from someone. The only control over the situation Fai had had was in taking the paper delivered to their apartment – a desperate attempt for privacy – and hoping that he wouldn't find out. And he hadn't.

Kurogane stood up.

"Where do you think he would go?"

"Probably the studio." Syaoran looked up at him. "Are you going to go speak to him?" And when he nodded, Syaoran only sighed again. "Good luck."

* * *

><p>The saddest part about the whole thing, besides the quiet and stillness of the studio, was the neat pile of Tomoyo's belongings a good ten feet away from their sub-studio. The sewing machine had been unplugged, the chord wound up carefully, everything laid down with care. All the fabrics had been folded and stacked next to it, sitting on top of a newspaper so as not to get the dust of the bare floor on them. It was hard to believe that the same person who had taken the time to move all those items with attention and consideration had created the destruction in front of him.<p>

Kurogane stood in front of the sub-studio, hands in his pockets, unable to say anything. The sheets had come down, and what he could now see was in indeed proper, aluminum scaffolding had, at some point, come clattering to the ground with them. Everything had been smashed – shattered ceramics lay scattered and broken on top of slashed canvas. Tools were thrown, snapped in two. It was hard to imagine the anger, the resentment it would take to move someone to such a passion.

The worst was the tree; it had been pulled down, long, mesh branches breaking off as it collided with the floor, it fabric leaves ripped from it. The trunk had cracked, and for the first time, Kurogane could see inside it: a mosaic of glittering sea glass in impossible hues of blues and greens swirled on the interior, away from human eyes, embedded in the clay that had been used to create the texture and color of the bark.

Fai had collapsed on the ground, in the middle of that chaos, staring into the trunk. At the sound of Kurogane's footsteps, he looked up.

"It'll be hell to build that again." He was surprised at how calm and reasonable he sounded.

Fai's eyes were rimmed with red, his face a flushed mess of tears. He looked away, back into the trunk. "I didn't build it in the first place."

"Yui, then?"

No surprise so much as flickered across his face; there was no reaction at all.

"I never knew that was in there." Fai spoke more to himself than him. It was just the two of them in the studio; there wasn't a need to whisper, but his voice was hushed all the same, his eyes locked on the swirling interior mosaic. "Why would you put the best part where no one would ever see it? Or know about it… I've looked at this thing every day for months, and I never knew what was inside."

"I could say the same thing about you." He took a tentative step forward, wincing at the sound of something cracking under his feet. "Fai."

Fai looked up again; all of the fight and falsity had drained away from him, leaving him only with a deep, empty sorrow.

"Why didn't you tell me about your brother?"

"It wasn't any of your business."

"Maybe not at first," he allowed. "But at some point, it was."

"What point?" His voice was stronger now, bitter. "When we kissed? When we fucked? Who told you – Syaoran? Did you call Tomoyo?"

"Syaoran." He felt it best to be honest. "I wish I had heard it from you."

"Why, what did you want to know?" His tone aimed for mocking and fell short. "What details didn't Syaoran cover? I don't want to be redundant and waste any of your time."

Kurogane moved forward until he was standing right in front of him. Fai's bangs, damp with tears, clung to the side of his face. He reached down and brushed a lock behind his ear; Fai didn't move or react, only letting his eyes fall back down to the destroyed tree.

"He started seeing someone a lot older than him." Fai sighed, wearied and exhausted from his rampage. "Someone with black hair…just like yours, but longer. I remember seeing you, and thinking -" He stopped short, as if he had suddenly opened a painful wound, and continued, changing the subject. "It didn't work out." There was a lifetime behind his brief words, a story that he knew, a complex affair of love and betrayal, perhaps, that maybe someday Kurogane would learn in full – but not today. Today, he didn't deserve those details. Fai's tone made it clear that, as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter anymore; Fai grit his teeth, as if the very thought of that person's name cost him pain. He wouldn't say it aloud, not for him. "The last time we spoke, Yui told me that…that _person _had called him _that _and broke up with him…and Yui had never been with anyone before. It was always just us, brothers, and I saw his heart break, right then…and he said, 'I'll be back. I'm going to the studio.' And that was the only time he ever lied to me." Tears, silent, slipped from his eyes to the floor below. "Some people get sad after relationships end. Some people get…really sad. Too sad to keep going."

"Some people destroy art studios."

"Yea." Fai rubbed his eyes furiously and turned to him; for a moment, he seemed to want to try and fake a grin, but it was impossible. He only stared up at him, hugging his knees to himself. "Some people do that, too."

Kurogane sat down in the rubble. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to think about it anymore." He looked around at the mess he had created. "I was so tired of being sad. I just wanted to smile and not think about my brother for one day of my life. And then you…you came. I was afraid I was going to make all the same mistakes Yui made, give too much of myself to a guy with dark hair. He was my twin – Syaoran probably told you that, but I thought, no, I'm different, you're different, I'm not going to end up killing myself over someone. I wonder if Yui thought that?" He looked back inside the tree, as if to question it. "We were identical…even in our mistakes."

"Is that what I am to you?" Something in his chest tightened, painful and sharp. "A mistake?"

"Well, that's what I am to you, so I thought it should be mutual."

"Fai." He was risking another punch, but so be it: he leaned forward, drawing his face toward him until their eyes met. "I didn't make a mistake."

"Then you learned a lesson." They looked at each other as if seeing one another clearly for the first time. "Was it worth it?"

"Depends how long it takes to clean this mess up."

Fai blinked at him as Kurogane stood up, surveying the damage. Shocked, blue eyes followed him as he moved gingerly around the broken studio, rolling his eyes.

"You said you had an exhibition proposal to do," he muttered. "What sort of idiot destroys all their work before a show?"

"You…Kurogane." Fai dragged himself to his feet, wiping his face. "You can go."

"No." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Not going."

Fai's eyes narrowed. "Don't patronize me. Whatever issues you have to work through are yours. I'm not going to be your social experiment. I don't need that." He was trying so hard to be forceful and angry, Kurogane could hear, but it was a front: he was crumbling again.

"So what? You're going to go home and just ignore me for the rest of the semester?"

Fai's voice was desperate. "If I have to. Please, just _go_."

"And Mokona." He pressed on, relentless. "You're actually going to clean your room and put her in there? With all that _paint?_"

"Syaoran can look after her for a bit until – Kurogane, _leave me alone._" He was pleading openly, shaking in desperation.

Kurogane glared at him. "So that's it. You're breaking up with me?"

"Breaking up with you?" Fai gawked at him. "We were never _dating._"

"Yea, well, we are now." He grabbed Fai by his arm, yanking him into an embrace before he could protest or move away. "I'm not perfect," he grunted. Fai struggled against him, outraged. "I can be a real prick. A real –"

"Fucking asshole, you said that before! Let me go!"

"Yea, I said that before. It was true then. It's still true. Will you stop fighting and just let me speak?" Fai's struggles stopped; Kurogane brought his arms up around him and pressed him closer, as tightly as he could. If this was the last time he was allowed to hold him, he wanted to make it count. "I…I haven't treated you like I should have. I haven't been…" He grit his teeth with the force of it, of making himself turn and face something he was avoiding. "Honest with myself. And I took that out on you."

"And you're sorry? Is that what you're saying?"

He cringed at Fai's acerbic tone. "I'm saying I'm an idiot. And I want you to let me make it up to you."

His voice broke. "How?"

"I don't know." He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "You're not the only one who's never been in a relationship before. I don't know what to do, or say…but I'm asking for time."

Wearied eyes looked up at him. "Time?"

"Time to figure things out. _With_ you. Not apart from you."

"And if I say no?"

The corners of his mouth drew down into a stubborn frown. "I'm a lot stronger than you. I'm going to keep holding you here until you change your mind."

"By that time, it'll be Monday. People will see."

"People will _stare_," he corrected. "…Because I'm not going anywhere."

They stood there, wrapped in silence, as the minutes passed, until two tired arms lifted, wrapping around him. Fai buried his face against him; Kurogane let out his breath without realizing he'd been holding it.

"…Can Mokona still stay in your room?"

"Yea." He pushed his hair away from his forehead, kissing him. "Why not?"

And slowly, as the hours passed, they began to clean up the mess that they had made.


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

The gallery was packed.

Kurogane was used to being surrounded by people; the average football game had 70,000 people screaming, cheering down at him – but they were always _away _from him, not shoulder-to-shoulder, talking, carrying wine glasses, dressed all in black.

It must have been an art-thing, he thought. Fai had told him to wear black ("It's what everyone does – and you'll look great!") and so at least he blended in; black pants, black jacket, black shirt.

White dwarf rabbit in his jacket pocket.

"Stop wiggling," he growled at it. Mokona looked up, squirming back down into the pocket. Fai had requested he bring his pet along; he was sure people were going to stare at him, but that must have been an art-thing, too: everyone had weird accessories. By contrast, the rabbit, which half the time was hidden in the jacket anyways, was normal.

Eventually, he was sure, Syaoran was going to show up. In the mean time, he looked around at the art, secretly impressed with what people were capable of creating. It was May now; it seemed like forever ago that Fai had trashed a semester's worth of work, written up a proposal for an exhibition composed of art that didn't exist, and got accepted to the end-of-the semester exhibition, one of five people in his year chosen.

Kurogane remembered it well; he'd spent an entire evening trying to get the blond to stop hyperventilating.

Neither of them slept for much of the month; Fai worked full-time, slouching on his studies, to produce new art for the show. He had thought about quitting, declining the invitation to show, but Kurogane hadn't let him; it was a huge honor, and he might not get to do it again next year. Things between them didn't return to the way they were before; it was like starting over again, in some ways, tentative and difficult at times. By the end of April, he had learned how to make tea – _proper _tea, that tasted good, but strong – to help Fai work through the night. He spent more time with Fai in a single month than he had all semester, and yet they had only had sex a few times – two, maybe three, if the time in the studio counted – but he had discovered that that didn't matter, that just being with him made him content. He'd helped build frames when necessary, model ("_Once,_" he had growled, "And _just _this once."), even skipped working out a few mornings to make sure Fai came home from the studio and slept, at least for a few hours. Fai had started to fall apart under the pressure at the end, what with exams happening at the same time early photographs of the art were needed for spacing the exhibitions of the gallery. Kurogane had stepped in as a personal assistant of sorts, making sure paperwork was in on time, bringing his textbooks to his studio (and Mokona, for emotional support), getting him to his exams.

And it was finally over.

The finished product had been worth the madness, he thought. Fai had broken apart Yui's tree sculpture, using the inside mosaic as the motif of his collection, titled _Movement. _He had done nothing to change it, only mounting it in an austere silver frame, hung in the middle of his exhibition, with a small note on the placard that said _not for sale. _Around it, Fai's artwork had been arranged. The colors were the same throughout – blues, whites, purples, greens – but it was an impossible task to try and take it all in at once. "Organized chaos," Fai had once said, and he had been right. The cohesion was there, if you squinted your eyes enough, cocked your head just the right way. Sometimes he saw water, flowing in paint – sometimes blue ice, crystallizing around a metal sculpture – or even purple fire erupting in gouche and pastels, all moving together, and next to nearly every little name plate, a little green sticker had been pressed: sold.

He grinned. He could see Fai, across the way, talking to someone, gesturing to his artwork. He was wearing all black as well; his hair had finally gotten long enough to pull back into a pony tail, and the result was maddeningly attractive. Fai stood, surrounded by the decadence of the evening, tall, svelte and sophisticated, an artist in his element. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Fai broke into a huge smile, waving to him.

"Excuse me?"

He turned, looking around. A girl was standing close to him, craning her head back to stare up at him. She had bright green eyes and short brown hair that framed a pretty face, but she looked down timidly, as if unsure of herself.

"Excuse me," she repeated again to the floor. "Are you Syaoran's roommate?"

Red eyes stared down at her. "I'm Fai's boyfriend."

She looked up, surprised. "Oh!" Her eyes moved over him, widening. "Fai is a lucky guy!"

"And you are…?"

"Sakura! Syaoran told me to find you and tell you he'd be a few minutes late. He said you'd be the one with the rabbit." Mokona was peaking out of his jacket pocket, interested. Sakura blushed. "Can I…can I hold it?"

"It's a girl. Her name's Mokona." He plucked it out and dumped her into Sakura's arms. "And she's a dwarf rabbit."

Sakura cuddled Mokona, delighted. "It's so nice to finally meet you! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy this semester. I'm staying on campus for the summer, so I'll finally have time to come visit your place. I've heard all about you, though – oh, only good things, I mean!"

_He really knows how to pick them…_ Kurogane grinned, satisfied. She was cute, that much was true – but cute girls were everywhere; no, she had a good heart, that he could tell by the careful way she was holding Mokona close. That was what counted.

"Oh – Tomoyo!" Sakura peaked around him. "I'll be right back…um…can I keep holding Mokona?"

"You can _have _her," he muttered. Sakura smiled and disappeared into the crowd.

A hand slipped around him, turning him around.

Fai was grinning at him. "Did you just give away my rabbit?"

"Not permanently." He rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately."

"Aw, you _like _her, Kuro-rin!"

"I like her better when she's not in my bed. Or my shoes. Or my closet."

"She likes how you smell, give her a break!" Fai gestured at the packed gallery behind him. "What do you think?"

"I think you've got the best art here."

"_Aw, _you don't have to lie!"

"I'm not lying." He looked at him, his voice sincere. "It looks great."

"It _sells _even better." Fai pressed close against him, craning up on his toes to whisper in his ears. "You have _no idea _how much money I've made tonight!"

"Enough to buy me a steak? I'm starved. All they've got is cheese and fruit."

"Oh, you missed the other table. Come with me." Fai grasped his hand, pulling him forward. They pushed their way past the gallery walkers, moving behind the walled-off entrance. A felt curtain swung shut behind them, the din of conversations reduced to a pleasant buzz.

"There's no food back here."

"Nope!"

"This was a trick." He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. "What are we doing back here?"

"Whatever we're doing, we're doing it _quietly._" Fai pressed against him, slipping his arms under his jacket. He kissed his neck, working his way up to his mouth.

Kurogane reached up, tugging his pony tail loose, dragging his fingers through his hair.

"We shouldn't –"

"Definitely _not_," Fai agreed. "But we're going to."

Kurogane sighed with mock-exasperation, giving in. Fai was already peeling his jacket off, tugging at his belt buckle. It was hard – no, sometimes it was _impossible _– to tell Fai no. Other things were sometimes even harder to say. Whenever he felt like he couldn't do something, he always forced himself to do it anyways, say what needed to be said.

"Hey." He grabbed Fai's shoulders, holding him still; the blond was working to undress him in a hurry, kissing his neck and chest, eager to have at him. "You know I love you, right?"

Fai blinked at him, surprised. "Of course I know that…are you feeling okay?"

"I just felt like saying it. Don't give me a weird look," he grumbled. Fai broke into a smile, and with a bounding, unfettered joy, leapt up at him, throwing his arms around his neck.

Kurogane fell backwards, grabbing at the curtain. It ripped away under their weight as they crashed down and backwards into the gallery, Fai's legs wrapped around his waist, a sheepish grin spreading from ear to ear.

Kurogane stared, upside down, at the people in the gallery who had stopped, wine-glasses raised to their lips, staring back at them. From somewhere to his left, a tiny white rabbit was hopping toward him, landing on his face.

"It's all very avant-garde," someone said.

"Performance art must be making a comeback. Do you suppose that's a _dwarf _rabbit?"

Mokona hopped off him.

Fai was wincing, bracing for a good yelling.

Kurogane smirked. "I think I could develop an appreciation for art."

Surprised blue eyes sparkled. "_Really_?"

"No." He leaned forward, kissing him, blonde hair brushing against his face. "You think they'll arrest us?"

Fai considered the possibility. "Not if we tell them it's art…"

"_Performance _art," Kurogane corrected, and tugged the curtain back over them.

**Fin. **

**Author's Note: I modeled the characters in the epilogue after their personalities in the Tsubasa epilogue (V. 18 of xxxHOLIC); I remember reading it and thinking, "**_**Wow, **_**Kurogane **_**really **_**leveled out!" What a 180 for his character. I guess 520 days of travel will do that to a person! Anyways, thank you so much for reading my fic; if you stuck with it this long and it brought you a little bit of entertainment, please leave a review and tell me what you thought! Thanks again for your time! –TB Bacchus.**


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